


Iscariot

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, OT6, but this has a happy ending!, solve the mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 63,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fake AH Crew were the biggest, baddest crew in Achievement City. Thick as thieves, in the height of their success, and on the brink of a relationship - until Ray left, and they fell apart. </p><p>Now, two years later, Geoff’s brought them all back in for one last job. But when things go wrong and the police show up, they end up trapped together, unfinished business and all, with the uncomfortable realisation that two years have changed them and someone - <i>one of them</i> - has sold them out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** violence, mentions of drinking problems and panic attacks.
> 
> Many thanks to Angelology, SailorBryant, heylittlehunter and percolating for their help with this <3

Things end a number of times.

They end that night out on the streets amid screaming sirens and broken radios and gunshots. Blood. 

They end again the quiet morning after, when Ray disappears leaving nothing but a note. Later, a phone call. Neither are enough.

They end at some point after that which none of them can quite pin down, just knowing that somehow - inevitably, really - Gavin winds up packing his bags in silence, and Geoff is passed out in a bar somewhere, and Ryan is leaving before he can be left - masked, coldly furious - and Michael and Jack are the last ones remaining. They let go too.

But things - everything - ends now, for the last time, in the warehouse down by the river where they’re trapped like rats. Nowhere to hide now. Just a room with six guns, one traitor, and two years’ worth of unfinished business.

It all starts, as usual, with a heist.

-

-

**18 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

Gavin is the first to arrive.

Geoff and Jack have been sitting in silence for half an hour now, wondering if anyone else is even going to show up. The safe house is quiet, in a remote little suburb some distance out from the CBD. It’s one they haven’t used in a long time, and even then rarely. That’s why Geoff picked it. There are no memories here. 

“Should we call them?” Jack asks, uncertainly, only for Gavin to open the door and enter before Geoff can even reply. There’s a frozen pause when the others look up and see him for the first time in two years.

“Hey,” Gavin says, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry. My flight was delayed a bit.”

Geoff half-rises to greet him, knocking his thigh on the edge of the table in his haste to get up. Jack remains where he’s sitting, but his hands clutch at the table in front of him. Eyes wide as he stares.

It’s hard not to stare, really. Not after all this time. Two years and they have all changed. But Gavin steps forward, then, slinging his bag from his shoulder to the ground - and Geoff moves forward, too, stepping around the table to draw him into a hug.

It’s a stiff, too self-conscious motion. Geoff seems careful not to hold Gavin too close, and Gavin freezes for a moment, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides before he lifts them to squeeze around Geoff’s back. Both tense. Both careful to keep the interaction carefully devoid of - of _anything_ , really.

“It’s been a while,” Geoff says, pointedly.

“Yeah,” Gavin murmurs back. They’re still holding onto each other uncomfortably, too aware of where hands and arms and chins are. Despite that, when Geoff pulls back there’s something reluctant in it, and he doesn’t let go of Gavin completely - grips his arms as he looks him up and down. His smile is very strained.

“You have a beard now,” he says, voice a little tight.

Gavin nods, and then breaks into a grin.

“Your moustache is gone!” he replies. “Why is your moustache gone?”

Geoff laughs too then - startled but genuine as he reaches up to touch his upper lip.

“Needed a change. You look so different! Your hair’s dark again,” he adds, and Gavin nods.

“Yeah,” he says, with a huff of a laugh himself. And then shuffles his feet awkwardly, looking up and over at the table. Jack is still sitting, watching him, swallowing hard. Looking almost stricken. Like he didn’t think it would be this hard to see him again. It wasn’t this hard seeing Geoff.

Then again, it’s different with Gavin. _Two years._ And Gavin in England all the while.

Gavin starts to lift his hand in a half wave, but Jack abruptly scrapes his chair back and moves over to yank him into a hug too. It’s different to Geoff’s; tight and too-desperate and Gavin lets out a startled little “oh,” hands rising, breath knocked out of him a bit.

Geoff clears his throat a bit awkwardly. Jack is clinging tight to Gavin, hunched over with his face buried into his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he says, and there’s something too sincere in it. Geoff looks away, and Jack squeezes Gavin tighter. “You could have called at least once.”

Gavin doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. His hand rests against Jack’s back for a brief second before he drops it again.

“I called Burnie,” he replies, a bit helplessly.

“I know,” Jack says, voice still muffled against the crook of Gavin’s neck. “He at least let us know you were fucking _alive_ now and then.”

“Sorry.” The word sits uncomfortably in Gavin’s voice. When they finally pull apart Jack starts to lift a hand and seems like he’s about to touch Gavin’s cheek - but the other man shies back, drawing away into himself before he takes a step back and looks around.

“No one else is here yet!” 

“You’re the first,” Geoff says, and Gavin gives a quick, tight nod. He doesn’t look at either of them as he bends and picks his bag up again.

“Early for once in my damn life. I might go and get settled in then, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before scurrying off to go and claim one of the other rooms in the expansive house. Silence falls again in his wake. Geoff and Jack look at each other - Jack is still standing, hand half-raised, something pained in his face. 

“You alright?” Geoff asks, frowning a little.

Jack shakes himself, hand dropping back to his side.

“Yeah,” he replies, and turns towards Geoff properly, forcing a smile. It falters when he registers that there’s something almost disapproving in Geoff’s face. When he speaks again his voice is tight and defensive. “I would have thought you’d be more affected. You were always the closest to him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geoff snaps. “We were all close.”

Jack bites his lip and doesn’t reply. After a moment Geoff sighs, lifting a hand to run through his hair.

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” he says, harshly. “This is just a job.”

“Yeah,” Jack replies, voice soft. “Just a job.”

-

Gavin returns maybe half an hour later. The others have been going over the plan and once they’ve run it over with Gavin as well, an awkward silence falls. The other two keep staring at Gavin. He keeps staring back.

“How’s Dan?” Geoff says, abruptly.

“He’s fine,” Gavin replies.

A pause.

“How are things here?” Gavin asks.

“Good,” Geoff replies, and glances at Jack, who just nods. “Coming along.”

“Yeah,” Gavin says, and they falter off into quietness again. Geoff reaching out to fiddle with the blueprints on the table, Gavin twisting his hands in his lap, Jack pulling out his phone.

Two years. There should be much to catch up on. They should still be able to be friends, after all this while. But there is nothing to say - or perhaps too much, so much that they don’t know where to begin - and after a while Geoff rises and heads over to the kitchen bar to get a drink. Gavin watches him, face unreadable, before folding his arms on the table and lowering his head down to rest on them, eyes slipping shut like he’s asleep. Jack sits, that odd pained look still on his face, watching the both of them.

-

**17 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

Michael knocks on the door next.

It’s Gavin who opens it - he was the only one still in the kitchen, the other two in the living room deeper into the house - and his eyes widen when he sees who it is.

“My boi!” he cries. It’s a bit forced - saying the words just because they’re expected - but there’s some genuine glee behind it, or sounds like there is, anyway.

Michael stares back at him for a moment before nodding.

“Gavvers,” he says.

Gavin’s arms rise, going for a hug, but Michael deftly avoids it - just reaches out and ruffles his hair before sweeping past him into the house to nod at Geoff and Jack, emerging from the next room. 

“Traffic’s shit out there,” he says. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Good to see you again, Michael,” Geoff says. He walks forward and holds out a hand for him to shake. Michael grasps it for about two seconds before dropping it. He won’t look at Jack and Jack won’t look at him. Gavin hovers by the door, arms wrapped around himself now, watching them all with wide eyes.

“Haven’t heard much from you lately,” Geoff says, a little awkwardly.

Michael shrugs.

“Eh. Been working small jobs. I did hear about that other heist you pulled though, that vault in the city - you get a big take?”

“Few million.”

“Solid,” Michael says with a nod, and then glances back over his shoulder at Gavin, as if he’s some afterthought. “What’ve you been up to then, Gav? Heard you were flying in.”

“The usual, you know,” Gavin replies - sounding guarded now, and Michael gives a tight smile.

“What’s the usual? Touching tips with Dan?” There’s something almost mean in his voice and Gavin’s brows furrow.

“No,” is all he replies, flatly.

Michael’s eyebrows rise and he takes a step towards the other man.

“You could have called-”

“I did,” Gavin cuts in, the second the words come out of Michael’s mouth. There’s a frozen pause and Gavin glances away before looking back up at Michael.

“I did call you,” he repeats, softer, and Michael’s lips press tightly together before he looks away. He drops the conversation there, turning to his bag and carrying it over to the table where he unzips it and begins taking out package upon package of explosives.

The others watch in silence. After a moment Michael starts humming, the tune eerily calm and jovial even as his movements are aggressive, slamming down packets of ammunition, several unloaded guns and then the metal components of bombs, laying them out on the table.

“Fucking interesting plan you’ve come up with,” he says after a while. He doesn’t look up at his audience, even if he must know they’re watching him with rapt attention. “Pretty funny how you had to ship Gav all the way back over here to do it.” 

“We need a thief,” Geoff replies, flatly. “It’s a big job. We need the best. And Gavin’s the best.”

“Mmm,” Michael replies noncommittally. “And so the old crew reunites once more. Should be pretty damn interesting. If R n’ R even show up.”

He continues unpacking with violent, curt motions. The others stand frozen in place, silent. Now and then Geoff’s hand creeps for his glass of whiskey, and then, when that’s empty, the bottle on the counter beside him. Jack still has not said a word. Gavin stands by the door, rubbing at his arm with his opposite hand.

Finally Michael finishes laying out his weapons; stacks of ammo, reels from the minigun, C4 piled up in neat rows. He turns to them and smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Well this is awkward, isn’t it,” he declares loudly. “All of us back together again. Reminds me of when we all first met, back before.” 

No one seems to have an answer to that. Michael throws himself into a chair, swinging his boots up onto the table, and reaches for Jack’s half-finished beer nearby. The clock ticks away on the wall; it feels later than it is. It’s only just hitting afternoon, bright sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. The house smells too strongly of disinfectant where Jeremy hurriedly cleaned it before they all showed up.

Eventually Gavin creeps back over to the table. There are empty chairs beside all of them but he moves to sit alone at the foot. Geoff has a finger in his whiskey, swirling it absently around, bringing it up to his mouth now and then.

“What’s Ryan been up to?” Gavin pipes up after a bit. “I haven’t heard much about him lately. Is he still working alone or did he join another crew?”

They all look up. Michael seems startled, then he begins to laugh. Harshly, hysterically.

“Oh my God. You didn’t fucking tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Gavin demands, defensively. He looks over at the others. “Geoff, what?”

Geoff and Jack exchange a glance.

“He’s been working alone,” is all Jack replies, stiffly.

Gavin still looks confused. He opens his mouth but then, after a moment, closes it slowly. 

Michael laughs again. It trails off into a bitter huff and sigh and he rocks his chair onto its back legs, gazing up at the ceiling.

“I think this all might be a very fucking bad idea,” he says.

“Yet you’re here anyway,” Geoff replies, curtly, and Michael’s gaze flickers over to him. He says nothing.

-

**16 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

The time passes. Maybe it should feel strange, all being together again after so long - but as it is, they _ignore_ each other. Geoff sits at the table and flips through the pages of the plans again and again, eyes scanning mechanically over blueprints, diagrams, maps that he’s already looked over a hundred times already. In the next room Gavin’s curled up on the couch, phone in hand. Browsing idly, head nodding forward now and then as he starts to drift off to sleep before jolting himself awake again - the jetlag starting to kick in. 

Michael is clattering around in the kitchen like it’s his own home, making instant noodles. Jack enters then, moving to get a drink of water just as Michael turns to grab a bowl. They nearly bump into each other and both of them flinch back, eyes meeting for a brief moment before they glance away. There’s a very awkward pause before Jack steps back, abandoning the mug he was going for and walking over to the table instead. Michael’s fists clench and he turns to stir his noodles with vehemence.

A knock at the door makes them all jump. It’s Geoff who moves to open it, freezing as he comes face to face with a too-familiar black skull. 

“Ryan,” he blurts out.

For all that they’ve been expecting him, his sudden appearance at the door makes them all freeze. He’s in full gear - heavy jacket, black leather gloves. Dark face paint beneath the skull making it so that even Geoff, standing nearly chest-to-chest with him and staring up at his face - can barely make out his eyes behind the mask.

“Geoff,” Ryan intones. It’s an affectedly cold voice, the one he uses when he’s putting on an act - when he’s trying to intimidate - when he’s very clearly the _Vagabond_ rather than the Ryan they know - _knew_ \- and Geoff’s shoulders go very stiff.

“Ryan,” he says again - voice more controlled this time. “You came.”

“There’s gold involved. How could I refuse?” For all that his words are joking, his tone is still flat, nearly sarcastic. “Are you going to let me in? Or am I like a vampire, must I wait to be invited.”

Geoff looks like he wants to say something more, but can’t quite seem to figure out what. After a second he steps aside. Ryan’s shoulder brushes roughly past him as he enters, and Geoff closes his eyes briefly before shutting the door behind him.

There’s a confident swagger to Ryan’s walk as he strides into the centre of the kitchen.

“You’re late,” Jack pipes up, and the skull turns to face him.

“Traffic was bad.”

“Traffic’s never stopped you before,” Jack points out, eyebrows rising.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Ryan replies. He looks over at Michael and nods. “Michael.”

“Ryan.” Michael’s lips twist a little, nearly a smile - but he seems unsettled now, standing up straight and alert. They all are, with Ryan’s presence in the centre of the room like the Grim Reaper. There is something very unnerving about him, even if he isn’t holding a gun, even if he’s here at their request - some notion of coiled up anger and violence inside that could burst out at any moment. It’s the sort of fear mostly felt by his victims, by the civilian population - not by men who know him, or should know him - not by men who have seen under the mask. Who have gotten so close.

There’s a noise at the kitchen door and Ryan turns towards Gavin, who’s moved up to lurk in the doorframe, staring at the newcomer with wide eyes.

“So even this one showed up,” Ryan comments, barely casting Gavin a glance before turning to Geoff. “Well, since we’re all here, shall we run through the plan?” 

“We’re still waiting for Ray,” Geoff replies, and Ryan _freezes up_ \- goes completely still for a moment, some coldness coming over him- 

“You invited Ray?” he asks, very slowly. 

Geoff’s lips press together tightly.

“Of course,” he replies, calmly. “We need a sniper.”

“So get Lindsay.” Ryan’s voice is tight and controlled, but too deliberately so.

“Ray’s the best,” Geoff says. “We need the best.”

There’s a pause. Geoff stares defiantly up at Ryan, who, after a moment, turns away and folds his arms, glancing between the rest of them.

“You really think he’s going to come,” he says, flatly, and Geoff frowns.

“Everyone else did,” he points out.

Ryan lets out a tremendous snort. “Didn’t think the asshole was even still alive, let alone in the country. How did you even track him down to invite him?”

“He’s been back on the grid lately,” Jack speaks up.

Ryan turns to him, that awful skull staring for a moment before he looks away again. His arms crossed tightly across his chest, emanating a cold fury that he was curiously devoid of when he first entered the room. 

“If anything, it was harder tracking _you_ down,” Geoff comments. “Where’ve you even been lately? Europe?”

“Around,” Ryan replies tightly, and tilts his head. “There’s no shortage of people need killing.”

“You were in Europe?” Gavin pipes up, and Ryan turns back towards him. Gavin shifts uncomfortably under his blank stare.

“You look like shit warmed over,” Ryan tells him, in lieu of answering his question. “And that’s being generous.”

“Oh, thanks,” Gavin scoffs, but his lips twitch up a little. He seems to think he’s teasing, but Ryan hardens at Gavin’s grin, shoulders squaring as he steps closer to him.

“I mean it,” he snaps, pointing a finger at him and waving it around, vaguely encompassing - what? His beard, the dark shadows under his eyes. The fact, perhaps, that he is not very recognisable as the golden boy he used to be, all clean shave and bleached blond hair and expensive sunglasses - the Gavin that Ryan knew before. “You look like you’ve gone to seed. I hope you can pull your fucking weight on this job.”

Gavin recoils, smile faltering a little before fading entirely. He glances towards Michael but the other man is watching the exchange in a stony silence.

“Ryan?” Gavin says, in a small voice - something pitifully confused in it - and Geoff steps forward then.

“That’s enough,” he snaps, and Ryan rounds on him.

“Ray’s not going to come,” he says, harshly. “So if you need a sniper, you’d best start revising your plans.”

He dumps his bag on the floor and stalks out of the room, presumably to go and look around the property. Gavin steps out of his way, not meeting his eyes as he passes, and then looks after him, seeming a little shellshocked.

“What the hell happened to him?” he demands, as soon as Ryan’s out of earshot. “That… he was…”

“The same thing that happened to all of us,” Geoff says, grimly, and gives a very tired sigh, running his hands over his face.

Gavin’s still staring after Ryan.

“He’s like how he was at the start,” he says softly, almost to himself.

Jack nods, vaguely, staring after Ryan as well. His face drawn and very tired, shoulders slumped a little.

“He didn’t leave though,” Michael points out after a moment, voice gruff. “He’s still staying to help with this job.”

That means something, they think. And even as they return to what they were doing before, something has shifted, with Ryan’s presence - an uncomfortable awareness, now, that they are nearly all together again.

**-**

**15 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

It is afternoon by now. The sun high in the sky, the weather starting to grow hot, stifling - there is no air conditioning in this house and it’s uncomfortably warm. Feels stuffy, despite how large it is. Most of the others have retired; Michael and Geoff remain, sitting at the kitchen table. Geoff is still drinking and Michael has a glass in front of him too now, though it’s mostly full of ice.

“He’s not showing up,” he says flatly, after a moment.

Geoff doesn’t look up from his drink.

“He will,” he replies, sounding tired more than anything.

-

**14 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

But time wears on and eventually Geoff calls them all back in. Jack looks disappointed and angry - keeps glancing at the door as though hoping it will open - but the rest of them appear resigned to the sixth member of their party not coming.

“If he’s not gonna show up we may as well go over the plan without him,” Geoff announces, and begins explaining the map. The docks have been rebuilt since most of them were in this city and the ship they need is coming in during the dead hours of the morning and at a particularly small, secluded part of the port.

He’s just finished going over the area and is moving onto each person’s role in the job when the sound of the door opening quietly behind them makes everyone freeze.

“Hey, uh,” a too-familiar voice pipes up. “Sorry I’m late?”

It is almost comical how quiet the room goes. You could hear a pin drop - a heart pound - silent enough that they all catch the way Ryan’s breath hitches, even behind his mask. And the way the leather of his gloves creak as his fists clench - those two tiny noises, tiny motions, the only reaction he gives, face hidden away behind his mask.

Jack and Geoff do not have that luxury. Both their faces crumple at the sound of Ray’s voice, though they build the facade back up quickly. Geoff steeling himself back into that implacable, bored stare he has perfected in years ruling the city, the look when he doesn’t want enemies - or friends - to know something has affected him. Jack a little more open, the first to turn to see the man at the door.

Michael and Gavin have both gone pale. Gavin’s hands shaking a little where he was toying with a sharpie. He tries to put the pen’s lid back on but his hands are trembling too badly and he ends up scribbling all over his fingers before he finally jams it back into its cap. Shoulders hunched up nearly around his ears as he turns, slowly - Michael is a little more composed, but his lips are pressed tightly together. Like any rage, any shouting - _anything_ he might have is being carefully, deliberately suppressed.

And there is Ray.

He is standing awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting, not seeming quite sure what to do with his hands.

The hardest part is, he looks the same.

The rest of them, they’ve all changed, somehow. Ryan masked and suited all in black. Geoff’s moustache gone and the dark wells around his eyes darker now. Jack looks older and he’s trimmed his beard, changed his glasses - Michael, too, leaner and harder now, some stubble wisping its way along his jaw, muscles more defined like he’s been doing more active work than just explosives over the last few months. And Gavin’s golden glamour faded away into something more honest, something more tired. 

But Ray - Ray looks like he stepped out of the apartment two years ago and stepped right back into this house here. The same worn purple hoodie, the same beanie shoved carelessly over his messy hair. The same pink sniper rifle strapped to his back - he’s nearly dwarfed by the massive backpack he’s carrying.

It is like seeing a ghost, and Gavin actually shivers - he steps back towards Michael, whose fingers are slowly clenching against the edge of the table. None of them can take their eyes off him.

Ray clears his throat a bit awkwardly.

“I… I was interstate,” he says, tripping a little over the words. “Took me a while to get here.”

“How did you get in?” Geoff asks, having managed to gather himself by now.

Ray lifts up a key.

“Still had this,” he says. It’s the master key to all their safe houses that they each had cut for them back - back when they were a crew, back when they all lived together - Geoff stares at it and almost starts to smile for a moment. A sad, tired smile - but it fades quickly as Ray steps further into the room. 

There’s something almost paranoid about his motions. He keeps glancing around at all of them, trying to gauge their reactions. His gaze lingers on Ryan as he approaches the table.

No one moves to hug him.

Everyone’s eyes track his movements as he gets closer. When he reaches the side of the table where Michael and Gavin are, the two men stare at him, but make no move to touch him. He stops a little way from them and offers a small sort of smile.

“Hey Vav,” he offers, seeming to think Gavin the easiest target.

“Hi,” is all Gavin responds with - quiet and flat - Ray falters and looks away.

“I, uh. I got your message. I’m in on the job. If you still need a sniper,” he says, turning to Geoff now - who snaps himself out of it and then nods.

“We do,” he says. “We do.”

There’s a very awkward pause. There are things they should say, probably. But no one does, and after a moment Geoff turns back to the plans. Just like that, they get to it, leaving the fact that Ray - Ray who left - Ray who none of them have so much as heard of in two God damn years - is back in the room with them, unaddressed. 

“The gold’s coming in early tomorrow morning on a cargo ship,” Geoff says. “Low key - it’s stolen, so they’re smuggling it in - but we have our lead. Michael, you’re on explosives. Cause a distraction - that’s when Ryan and Jack go in. Hold off the men - Ray, you’re on cover, you’ll be up out of the way and you need to pick off anyone on the top deck. Give Gavin and I a chance to get inside - we’ll break into the safe. This shit’s meant to be going to the Corpirate. It’s gonna be heavily guarded - he’ll have spared no expense on security. It’s not gonna be easy. But I reckon we can pull it off.” He glances about at them all. “You’re all the best at what you do. That’s… that’s why I had to bring you back in. Pull this off and we’ll be rich.”

“And then,” Ryan cuts in darkly, “We part ways once more.”

A pause before Geoff nods.

“Exactly,” he says. “Any questions?”

They look around at each other, Ray picking up his section of the plans and looking over them again - but no one speaks up, and after a moment Geoff nods.

“Okay then,” he says. “From here on out we’re sealed in. No one leaves the house. Now you all go get some rest - we have to be up early as dicks tomorrow.”

They shuffle out, one at a time - Ryan first, not bothering to look over his own section again - Gavin a moment later, glancing back at Ray but looking away quickly before the other man can notice - then Michael, then Jack, until it’s just Geoff and Ray, standing at the table.

Ray is still staring down at the papers. Geoff watching him, face carefully blank.

“Ryan was sure you wouldn’t come,” he comments, and Ray glances up then.

“For a while I didn’t think I would,” he replies, and gives a wry smile. “But I… I dunno. I’ve worked a bunch of jobs alone now. Thought it might be… interesting. Working with the team again.”

“I thought you might be dead. We didn’t hear from you for so long.” Geoff’s voice is carefully flat, but Ray flinches a little at his words, lips twisting, upset.

“I wanted to call, a few times. Let you know I was still alive. But I figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me.” He starts to wrap his arms around himself, then shoves his hands in his pockets instead, awkwardly. “I didn’t realise… it took me a while. To work out that you guys had disbanded. But then I started to hear about Ryan’s hits and I realised he wasn’t with you anymore - and I couldn’t find a fucking trace of Gav until I looked up what Dan was doing and realised he’d gone back to England - then I saw Jack was working with Burnie again and I… I realised you’d all gone your own separate ways.”

“It shouldn’t have surprised you,” Geoff replies, looking down at the plans and straightening them into a neat pile of sheets. “After all, you went your own way first.”

Ray looks away, biting at his lip.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly.

Geoff snaps the pile of paper onto the table and looks over at him again.

“There shouldn’t be any problems on this job,” he says. “You’re separate from the rest of us this whole time. All you have to do is snipe.”

Ray nods, silently, and Geoff leaves the room. Alone now, he reaches up, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Might really fucking regret this,” he mutters.

-

**12 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

The smell of noodles burning brings Geoff into the kitchen as afternoon wears into evening. Gavin is standing at the stove watching his dinner slowly char - staring into the bubbling water, almost lost in a daze. Geoff reaches past him to turn the gas off.

“You’re gonna burn the fucking house down,” he says, and Gavin jerks, snapping out of it. His cheeks flush a little as he realises his error.

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

“Sit down. I’ll make them for you.”

Gavin hesitates, but moves to sit at the table. He watches in silence as Geoff sets about cooking for him.

It’s too familiar to both of them, probably. The house is different - emptier, too clean, not the messy homeliness of the apartment they shared for so long - but as Geoff rolls his shirtsleeves up and sets about boiling water, as he moves to pour himself another drink and sets one in front of Gavin too - it’s too much like the way he cooked for the other man a hundred times before. Except rather than laughter and conversation everything is undercut by that terrible silence instead.

“Thank you,” Gavin says, when Geoff pours out the noodles and sets them in front of him.

Geoff just shrugs. “Someone’s gotta feed you.”

“I can feed myself.”

“Evidently,” Geoff says drily, and Gavin smiles a bit, but it fades quickly.

“It’s not your job any more,” he says quietly, and Geoff falters, his own fork halfway to his mouth. He slowly lowers it back into his bowl before shrugging, a too-deliberate grin on his face.

“It’s my job to stop this entire damn safehouse from burning down because you can’t even cook instant noodles,” he replies, and Gavin lets out a little huff of breath, stirring at his soup and blowing on it once in a while.

“I missed the food here when I was in England,” he says after a while, and it’s an offhanded comment but Geoff pauses anyway, because maybe there’s too much that could be read into that - I missed _your_ food - _I missed you_ \- but Gavin doesn’t say anything else, just turns away and starts shovelling noodles into his mouth, and Geoff bites his tongue and returns to his own meal. 

-

**11 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

The sun is only just beginning to set when Jack steps out of the house. The veranda overlooks an expansive backyard - this safe house is in a nice suburb - and it’s warm out here, the summer evening hanging over them like a light blanket, cicadas trilling away in the trees over near the fenceline. It’s a nice scene, serene.

And then there is Ryan, standing at the edge of the porch staring over it like a ghost at the edge of a painting, some grim harbinger of death watching the sky fade yellow to orange to red as the sun sinks slowly away.

Jack comes up next to him, cautiously - Ryan doesn’t turn his head. Eventually it grows dark around them. The flickering porch light gradually seeming brighter as night settles over the garden. A moth flits about their heads and Ryan swipes irritably at it; the back of his hand catches the insect and it’s sent spiralling into the naked bulb of the light, crumbling to dust in an instant.

Jack clears his throat.

“Have you been okay?” he asks, quietly.

The words make Ryan’s shoulders stiffen even more.

“Don’t act like you care,” he grunts back.

Jack turns to face him, brows furrowed, face drawn and pained.

“Ryan…”

“What, Jack?” Ryan snaps. “Do you want me to say I _missed you_? Would you like that? To think that I’ve lived the last two years desperately hoping that we’d all somehow make up? That’s not how it works. You can’t have good things in our business. So don’t act like you care now. Because you sure as hell didn’t care two years ago.”

Jack flinches back as though physically struck.

“That’s not true,” he says - but Ryan turns to him then, the skull mask seeming to sneer.

“You know, for a long time you all really had me going. Thought we could fucking work. Six of us! Turns out four were fucking liars. And you were one of them.” His fists clench and Jack opens his mouth, some silent protest forming - but Ryan turns away.

“But I learned my lesson,” he continues, darkly. “It doesn’t matter to me any more.” 

Jack bites his lip before turning on his heel and striding back inside. Ryan tenses when he slams the door shut behind him before letting out a low breath, nearly a growl, and leaning against the porch rail once more.

-

There is a window in Michael’s bedroom. It overlooks a side passage between the back garden and the front yard. He stands before it, watching, as Ray slips out the kitchen door and paces up and down, reaching up now and then to tug agitatedly at his beanie before pulling the hat off entirely and running his hands through his hair. Even from here Michael hears him groan and then watches as he glances, torn, towards the gate leading out the front yard.

“Go on. Leave,” Michael mutters, under his breath. “You fucking coward. You could just leave again right now.”

But Ray just turns and slams a fist against the fence beside him before covering his face with his hands - Michael can see his chest heaving - he turns away from the window and walks back over to the bed where he stands for a moment, fists clenched, trembling. Then takes up his pillow and places it against the wall and punches it, again and again, short savage blows. Silent, muffled by the cushion, but vicious. Each motion punches a little grunt of breath out of him and he’s shaking by the time he throws the pillow angrily to the ground, tears burning at the corners of his eyes as he falls into a crouch and raises his arms to cover his face. Distantly, the kitchen door slams shut as Ray heads back inside.

-

**10 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

When the back door opens again Ryan is sitting, now, on the veranda steps, staring out over the dark expanse of the garden. Keeping some silent watch over - what? The grass, or the wall, or the clear night sky. In his black clothes he is nearly invisible, save for the shimmer of the porch light against the leather of his jacket.

Gavin approaches tentatively, hovering awkwardly in the doorway for a long minute before he creeps forward. Ryan doesn’t move, even when he sits down next to him.

For a while they sit like that - not touching - Gavin opening his mouth now and then before seeming to think better of it. But finally he does speak.

“I’ve been in England,” is all he manages to come up with.

“I really do not fucking care,” Ryan cuts back immediately. It is cruel boredom in his tone, and Gavin looks away, hands fisting at his sides.

Ryan glances at him, and lets out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

“Why are you all trying to bond with me?” he asks, and Gavin turns back towards him.

“I just want to catch up,” he replies, defensively. “I haven’t seen you in ages. We should still be able to be friends, shouldn’t we?”

“The Vagabond doesn’t have friends,” Ryan informs him, and Gavin’s face twists into something angry and disappointed.

“Is that how it is?” he asks, and Ryan scoffs.

“That’s how you made it.”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything,” Gavin protests, and Ryan laughs, bitterly.

“Yeah, you didn’t. That was the problem.”

Gavin looks away again, picking at the chipped wood at the end of the veranda step. There is a tense quiet between them until he winces, a splinter caught in his finger. He lifts it to his teeth to pull it out and Ryan shifts beside him, drawing his attention.

“I came here to do a job,” he mutters. “Not catch up with all of you.”

“We still want to _know_ , Ryan,” Gavin insists. The anger gone from his tone now, replaced by something else - something tentatively curious. “Two years. I stole diamonds. Dan and I blew up a lot of things. What have you been up to?”

“Didn’t they tell you?” Ryan replies “Making a name for myself again. Killing. A lot of killing. Some very high profile assassinations. Striking fear into the hearts of men and all that. What I would have been doing,” he adds, snidely, “If I hadn’t been distracted back then by all of _this_.”

“Is that what it was to you?” Gavin asks, quietly. “Everything we did together, just- what? An _obstacle_?”

“A waste of fucking time, that’s what,” Ryan says.

Gavin stares at him. Not hurt. Disbelieving. Ryan stares emphatically back - probably trying to make some kind of point, but Gavin just tilts his head.

“Why are you still wearing that thing?” he asks, nodding towards Ryan’s mask. “We’ve all seen your face anyway.”

He reaches towards the other man to pull it off only to cry out when Ryan seizes his wrist and rips it roughly away from his face. The other man rises, menacing now, anger coiled up in every muscle. 

“Do not touch me,” he hisses. “Oh my God, you really don’t get it, do you? We’re not playing here, Gavin. I’m not joking here.”

“That hurt,” Gavin says quietly, cradling his wrist. Ryan’s eyes flicker down to it, then he scoffs.

“Don’t bother going crying to Jack that I was mean to you. Don’t you _see_. No one’s going to protect you anymore, Gavin. We’re on our own now. Don’t you _get it_? There isn’t a _we_ anymore. There isn’t an _us_. I don’t know what Geoff’s fucking playing at bringing us all back together like this, but it sure as hell isn’t going to fix things.” He shakes his head and his laugh this time is mean. “I don’t know what he’s fucking doing bringing _Ray_ back.”

“I know that.” Gavin rises too now, lifting his chin angrily. “I’m not stupid. I’m not that naive.”

“So why did you come back?” Ryan’s voice is challenging but Gavin seems to hear something under it; he tilts his head and anything on his face before - any hope, or vulnerability, any beginning of a smile vanishes. He can hurt people too. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Haywood. It’s a big job. Big money. And I wanted to see Burnie again. Not,” he adds coldly, “For any of you.”

Ryan stares at him, implacable. When he laughs this time it doesn’t sound quite so real.

“So little Gavin has teeth after all,” he says coldly. “If only you’d shown them sooner.”

Gavin clenches his fists. But Ryan is already turning away, staring back out at the garden.

“Don’t bother me again,” he orders, and Gavin’s jaw tightens. He rubs at his wrist again before turning on his heel and heading back into the house.

-

“You drink too much,” Jack comments, entering the kitchen to find Geoff sitting at the table with yet another half-empty glass in front of him. Geoff just raises his eyebrows tiredly and drains the rest of it - Jack frowns.

“I mean it,” he insists. “Don’t get drunk before all this. We need everyone at a hundred percent to pull this off.”

Geoff gives a mighty snort. 

“We’re definitely not at a hundred percent,” he scoffs. “God, not even close. We’re distracted. Why did I think this was a good idea again?”

“We’re all good at what we do.”

“We also all hate each other’s guts,” Geoff points out, and Jack looks away, something sad and almost guilty in it.

“We should have just pulled together a new team,” Geoff says, but Jack shakes his head.

“We need them,” he says. Geoff just pulls a face, reaching for the bottle again, but Jack swipes it out of the way before he can take it.

“You’ve had enough,” he says, and Geoff looks up at him, meeting his eyes with something a little startled - not quite angry - Jack stares back at him, earnestly, and Geoff turns away with something like a laugh, though there’s no humour in it.

-

**9 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

“What the fuck’s wrong with you then?” Michael demands. He’s emerged from his room, heading for the bathroom, only to discover Gavin lurking pensively in the corridor, nursing his wrist. Looking a bit lost, like he’s not quite sure what he ought to be doing. 

Gavin looks up at him, wary.

“Ryan hurt my arm,” he complains.

Michael does not seem impressed by this. His snort is unsympathetic.

“You were pestering him, weren’t you?” he says. “What, did you think you could turn him around? That you could still be _friends_ with him?”

“No,” Gavin replies, icily, but Michael just rolls his eyes.

“You did, didn’t you. Jesus, Gavin. Ryan’s fucked up now the way he was fucked up when we first met him. Only _worse_ because it’s always worse, isn’t it, when people make you _think_ that it can get better, that you can have something else, something special with them - that you can let them in - only to take it away. You can’t fix that. Bet you were going to try, though, weren’t you?” he sneers. “Bet you fucking thought we could just _pretend_ all this didn’t happen _-_ we could just _ignore_ it all.”

“I didn’t,” Gavin begins, but Michael just shakes his head.

“Honestly, Gav, you do it to yourself. You fucking do it to yourself-”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Gavin cuts in. He sounds properly angry for the first time, voice rising high and distressed. “You and Ryan keep… but it _wasn’t_. It wasn’t my damn fault. It was all of us. It was Ray. It wasn’t just _me_.”

Michael reaches out and grips the front of his shirt. For a moment he seems about to slam Gavin into the wall - the other man just glares down at him, and after a second Michael lets him go, turning away, breathing slowly through his nose.

“No. It wasn’t all of us,” he snaps. “It sure as fuck wasn’t me.”

His voice is shaking and Gavin looks stricken. He starts to reach out but Michael shoves past him and marches off into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. Gavin stares after him, then slumps back against the wall, covering his face and letting out a miserable breath.

-

Ray’s eating in the living room alone when Jack comes in - doesn’t even notice him at first. The light is dim and Ray is very quiet, sitting huddled in the corner with his giant bag, a plate of toast in front of him. When Jack turns and notices him they both freeze, a bit awkwardly.

“Alright?” Jack asks, hesitantly, and Ray nods.

“Yeah,” he replies, and forces something like a smile.

Jack’s eyes scan over him. He’s beardier - looks leaner, gaunt and tired. Maybe not so unchanged after all, at least in the ways that matter.

“Have you been okay?” Jack asks softly.

Ray looks a bit surprised by the question. He nods, quickly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been fine. I mean. I’m still alive, aren’t I? And all limbs intact. That’s more than a lot of people in our business can say for themselves.” He laughs a bit, and Jack’s lips twitch a little. “How about you?”

“I’ve been okay,” Jack replies. “It was good to go back and work with Burnie and the others again.”

“You and Geoff aren’t…” Ray trails off, and Jack raises his eyebrows.

“What?”

“I dunno,” Ray says, a bit flustered. “I guess I figured since you both stayed in AC that you might have stuck together.”

“Oh,” Jack replies, and gives a humourless sort of laugh. “No. We… didn’t. We saw each other, now and then - but we. We didn’t cross paths all that much. Not until we started arranging this job.”

“That sucks,” Ray says quietly, and Jack raises his eyebrows.

“Does it?”

Ray bites his lip, looking away.

“You know I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” he forces out - hesitant, choked, and flinches afterwards, like he’s scared of the words that came out of his own mouth.

But Jack just gives a sad sort of sigh.

“You know the others might say it’s too late for that,” he replies, and rubs a hand over his face. “But yeah. I know you didn’t.”

Ray bites his lip. But Jack doesn’t say more - just turns away and leaves the room, careful not to so much as brush against Ray on the way out.

-

When Ryan finally comes back inside it’s to find Geoff and Michael in the kitchen, going over the plan once more. He snorts as he walks over to the table and looks down at them.

“You must have memorised that damn thing by now,” he says, and Michael glances up at him.

“He doesn’t want to fuck it up,” he replies, and Geoff scowls at him, slamming the folder shut.

“Fuck it up,” Ryan repeats, and laughs as he turns to Geoff. “Like you fucked it up last time? Oh my God. Is that what this is - is this whole plan some way for you to, what, _redeem yourself_?”

“No,” Geoff replies sharply. “Fuck you, Ryan. It’s not.”

“It all makes sense now,” Ryan says. “You blame yourself for what happened. You want us to do it again. Rewrite history. Maybe this time everything goes well. Maybe, this time, we don’t fall apart afterwards.”

“That’s not what’s going on here,” Geoff snaps, and gets up from the table to leave the room. Ryan steps into his path.

“Pretty fucking pathetic, Ramsey.”

“Move.” Geoff’s hand goes to his chest to shove him aside but he falters at the last minute, gripping the front of Ryan’s jacket loosely. Ryan stares down at him.

“You can’t,” he says quietly, impassively observing how Geoff’s jaw clenches at the words. “You can’t redo what happened. You’re right, it was your damn fault - but doing it again, what’s that gonna change? Nothing. Maybe it’ll make _you_ feel better. But it’s not going to change a damn thing for the rest of us.”

“Suck a dick, Ryan,” Geoff snarls. “Maybe I’m doing this for the money. Or maybe I am doing this for me. But I’m sure as fuck not doing it for you.”

“Just don’t fuck us over this time,” Ryan replies coldly, and steps out of Geoff’s way. “After all, I’m the one who had to pay for it all.”

The hardness on Geoff’s face falters at that, and he marches out of the room.

“You’re right,” Michael speaks up, and Ryan turns to him.

“What?”

“Last time. You’re the one who got hurt. You and I, we’re the only ones who did a damn thing to try and stop all this. We shouldn’t have bothered coming back.”

Ryan huffs a little, but he glances at Michael with something like interest, and there’s something a little less harsh and intimidating in his stance as he steps towards him.

“I haven’t heard much about the jobs you’ve been doing,” he says, and Michael raises and lowers one shoulder.

“Kept them low key; I wasn’t bothered to join another big crew. You had the right idea going alone. Maybe we’re both just back to how we were at the start. Like nothing ever happened.”

“That’s the gist of it,” Ryan grunts. “I tried very hard to forget.”

“Thing is, though,” Michael says then - pleasantly, but something cold in it - “In the end, you did choose to leave too.”

“We were all gone by that point.”

“Jack and I weren’t,” Michael points out. “You and me and him - maybe things could have been different. I’m just saying.”

“Maybe,” Ryan concedes. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” Ryan says, more sharply. “It doesn’t.”

Michael stares at him. Then turns away, and shrugs.

“Geoff feels guilty as fuck. Maybe it’s about the last heist. Or what happened after. Or something else. It’s strange, seeing him like that.”

“He’s a sad old man.” 

“If he is then we all are,” Michael says, and shakes himself. “Anyway, I’m tired. You should sleep too.”

Ryan doesn’t reply to that, and Michael walks out without pushing it. Once he would have, maybe; he knew, they all knew, that the other man sometimes - often - barely slept. But it is the Vagabond he leaves behind in the kitchen, not Ryan - not anyone who needs or wants his pity.

-

**8 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

Ray opens the door to one of the bedrooms. Turns on the light and takes two steps inside before he realises Gavin’s already occupying this room.

“Oh,” he says, a bit awkwardly. And then starts, “Sorry,” but trails off as he realises the other man is fast asleep. The jetlag has hit by now, it seems; Gavin’s out like a light. Curled up in the bed, one arm flung up over his face, blankets pulled up tight around his shoulders despite how warm a night it is.

Ray turns to leave, then pauses. Glances over his shoulder at the corridor behind him - empty - before slipping further into the room. His footsteps quick and careful and silent until he reaches the side of the bed and stops, frowning a little as he watches the other man’s chest rise and fall as he breathes. 

He reaches out, tentatively, and brushes at Gavin’s hair where it’s sticking out from under his arm. Unfamiliar and dark - the entire time he knew Gavin he’d been bottle-blond. He’s less tanned now, too, after two years spent in miserable England rather than under the heat and sun of Achievement City.

Ray’s hand drops back to his side and he closes his eyes briefly. A small smile tugs at his lips for the slightest of moments before he turns away, picking up his bag and switching the light off, slipping out of the room quietly and shutting the door behind him.

-

**6 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

Ryan wanders through the house. Stops now and then - in the kitchen, or at the window, or out on the porch - some silent vigil. The house is death-silent around him, the slow shuffle of his footsteps the only noise in the quiet of the night - save for Geoff’s breaths, where the other man is sprawled out on the couch in the living room, an empty bottle beside him. Ryan pauses whenever he passes through that room, casting him a glance now and then. Makes no move to pick up the bottle when it rolls off the sofa and onto the carpeted floor.

-

**4 HOURS UNTIL THE HIT**

Jack jerks awake, sitting bolt upright, chest heaving. Breathing too-fast, too-fast. It’s a hot night, stifling, and the covers are warm around him, but he is shivering hard despite that, a cold sweat on his brow. He slips out of bed and across the hall into the bathroom and throws up into the toilet, slumping back with a groan when he’s finished.

“Shouldn’t be doing this,” he chokes out, only to freeze at a sound out in the hall. Footsteps slowly shuffle past the closed door of the bathroom - _Ryan_ \- but they pass, and Jack lets out a breath and rests his head against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom until his heart stops slamming in his chest and his breath slows. He goes back to bed but lies awake, listening to the occasional quiet movements of Ryan as he circuits the house until the sky outside his window slowly turns grey with dawn.

-

**1 HOUR UNTIL THE HIT**

Michael stands before the bathroom mirror, leaning in close, contact lens balanced precariously on the tip of his finger as he carefully holds his eye open to put it in. He blinks a few times, letting it settle, and when he looks up again it’s to see Ray, reflected in the doorway behind him, watching in silence.

“I’m almost done,” Michael snaps, and Ray shifts a little.

“No, I - sorry. I don’t need the bathroom.”

“The fuck do you want then?”

Things feel different this morning. Last night they were awkward more than anything, no one sure how to react upon seeing each other after so long. But now - it’s had time to settle. Now things are tense, and angry.

“I heard about some of the jobs you’ve been taking,” Ray pipes up. “Heard a couple of them went wrong too. I was worried, a few times, that you might not have gotten out.”

Michael’s fists clench. He turns the water on hot, twisting the tap with a vicious sharp motion. Steam rising up to fog the mirror in front of him. 

“If you don’t need anything, don’t talk to me.”

“Michael.” There’s something almost pleading in it. But Michael ignores him, scrubbing his hands together violently under the hot water, and Ray bites his lip before turning away.

-

In the second bathroom Gavin also stands before the mirror, fingers running over his jaw as he tilts his head, inspecting his reflection. His flat, dishevelled bed hair and the dark lines under his eyes.

He reaches out and picks up a razor, turning it over in his hands. Starts to lift it to his cheek, considering. The man who stares back at him is a far cry from the clean-shaven, spiky-haired blond, the image he maintained for so many years. Ramsey’s thief.

He lowers the razor and splashes his face with water, not even bothering to run a comb through his hair before he turns and leaves.

-

“Slight change of plans,” Geoff announces - he’s called them all back into the main room where the map is spread out on the table.

“Say things go to shit; our primary escape route was going to be down this way,” one finger traces a line down a road on the map. All eyes track the digit; he has new tattoos now, since they last saw him, covering the entire back of his hands and knuckles. “Turns out that road’s closed. Some accident last night brought a power pole down. It’s not a problem, though. Means if we need to we can head out down this route instead. Kapish?”

They all nod.

“This is a solid plan, though,” Jack speaks up, because a sullen silence has descended over them. It can’t be from the change in plans, that’s a relatively minor issue. More like the fact that the last time the six of them were gathered around a map like this together was _back_ \- back when they would laugh and smile and joke, back when Ray would stand close by Ryan’s side and Gavin’s arm would rest comfortably across Michael’s shoulders - and the last time, the last time was back before things went horribly wrong, before back-up plans and radios failed and Jack pointed fingers, and Michael pinned blame, and Gavin refused to speak-

And Geoff could only drink-

And Ryan bled-

And _Ray left-_

“Nothing should go wrong,” Jack says now, as though that’s not what they thought last time.

“Touch wood,” Gavin says, and raps his knuckles against the table.

“You’d better touch a lot of fucking wood,” Michael grunts, “If you fuck this up…”

“Why would _I_ fuck this up?” Gavin squawks.

“We’re gonna be on a boat,” Michael says. “I know what you’re like on boats.”

“ _One time_ ,” Gavin protests. “One bloody time. Christ alive.”

Ray huffs, perhaps at the memory - but the noise makes them glance at him. It’s too close to a laugh, too close to a smile on his face, and the reminder of his presence seems to sour the mood - Michael scowls, and Ryan tenses, and even Geoff’s face shutters over a little.

“We’re depending on you to get into the safe,” Ryan says, turning to Gavin. “So make sure you don’t disappoint us.”

The vehemence with which Gavin glares at him makes them all stiffen, surprised. Even he, it seems, can be pushed too far.

“You worry about yourself, _Ryan_ ,” he snaps, and looks coldly about at all of them. “I can do my damn job. You don’t know the half of what I’ve pulled off with Dan the last two years. I’m doing you a bloody favour coming back here and you know what, you’ve all been horrid to me. You’ve all been terrifically mean. I’m warning you, I shan’t stand for it.”

“I made you noodles!” Geoff cries, affronted. But he, too, seems taken aback by Gavin’s sudden anger, and he turns to Michael and Ryan.

“Keep it professional,” he orders, and Michael just shrugs.

“Nothing personal,” he sneers at Gavin, who scowls right back at him. His tone is mocking because God, it’s all personal, it’s all way too fucking personal and don’t they know it - “You make yourself an easy target. You don’t push back.”

“Until the day he snaps and kills us all,” Ryan cuts in, rather morbidly. There’s something snide in it - it’s meant to be a jab at Gavin, most likely, Gavin who has taken the least lives of all of them, Gavin whose quick thief’s hands have only ever killed men with guns, avoiding the most visceral of their world’s violence; blades and blood and bare hands-

Gavin who’s not laughing now. Who stares icily back at Ryan, a stare as blank and suddenly terrifying as the other man’s mask - Gavin who looks older and drawn with his tired eyes, who could have done any number of things in the last two years that they don’t know about. 

It is not very funny, suddenly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence. Then Jack mumbles something about going to get ready, and Gavin strides out of the room muttering about making tea.

“We leave in an hour,” Geoff orders, and the others nod before taking their leave.

-

Gavin sits at the kitchen table cutting his toast into careful squares. Quarters - then eighths, triangles. Pushes them about on the plate as he eats, watching them tessellate into different patterns.

Ryan is outside. He walked by the kitchen window earlier. He’s in the side-passage and Gavin doesn’t know what he’s doing. As he sits, eating slowly, Jack slips out the front door behind him as well - something quick and hurried in it. Gavin watches him leave, carefully, but doesn’t call out to ask where he’s going.

-

The door to Michael’s room is shut. Gavin comes down the hall, headed for his own room. There’s a bit of colour back in his face after eating; he’s more awake, the anger faded. He pauses outside Michael’s door, considering, and almost starts to raise his hand to knock - but after a moment his fist drops back to his side and he turns away.

Only to find Ray, who’s moving towards his own room - they pause, awkwardly, looking at each other.

“You about to talk to Michael?” Ray asks, and Gavin shakes his head.

“Nah. Don’t think he has much to say to me nowadays.”

“Tell me about it,” Ray mutters, and Gavin’s face twists into something almost upset. They stand staring at one another for a moment. Gavin’s hands twitch by his sides and Ray’s posture is stilted, awkward, shoulders hunched up defensively.

“I haven’t been mean to you,” Ray says finally, after a moment. “What you said before. I haven’t been mean to you. And I don’t think you’re gonna fuck up this job. When I heard the crew broke up - I wasn’t as worried about you as the others. You were always the most talented of us. I knew you could make it on your own.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about what happened?” Gavin demands, and Ray shakes his head.

“No - no, that’s not what I-“

“Because it doesn’t, Ray. Christ. You haven’t been _mean_ to me - Jesus, what do you call vanishing without a damn trace? Ignoring my calls. Falling off the grid like that. Even when you - when you called Geoff, after. You didn’t even speak to me?”

Ray looks down, hands fisting in the sleeves of his hoodie. After a moment Gavin sighs.

“The worst part was, we didn’t understand. I still don’t understand. I still don’t get what went wrong. But maybe Ryan has the right idea. We should just… go back to how we were, at the start, before we ever knew each other - it’s too late to explain now, I think.”

“Then why did you come all the way back here?” Ray asks, softly. “You could have stayed in England. Stayed with Dan.”

“Hell if I know,” Gavin says. “But no one cares about that. What we all want to know is why _you_ came back.”

Ray doesn’t reply. After a moment Gavin sighs, and starts to get by him - Ray catches his arm, pulling him to an abrupt stop.

“I missed you,” he chokes out - doesn’t look at Gavin as he says it - his voice is thick and upset and Gavin freezes, going very stiff. He does not look at Ray either. After a moment he swallows, hard, and tugs his arm from Ray’s grasp before moving off into his own room. Ray flinches as he hears the door slam shut behind him - he glances at Michael’s room, too, still implacably closed off, before shaking himself, sniffing. Takes two deep breaths and steels his face back into something blank, bored, vaguely tired.

-

“Ready to go?” Geoff asks, when Ryan steps back into the house. He smells like cigarettes and Geoff’s nose wrinkles a little, but he does not comment. Ryan still has his mask on and his jacket is bulky from the body armour he’s got underneath.

“I’m always ready,” Ryan grunts back. 

“To _murder people_ ,” Geoff mutters, and chortles to himself. Ryan glances at him, arms folded. His gaze rests on Geoff’s face for a moment before scanning over the table, searching for some glass or a bottle. But finds none.

“Of course,” he replies calmly, and strides over to the table, pointedly taking out his gun to check the clip. If he’s aiming to intimidate Geoff, it doesn’t work; the other man just lazily watches him, his own gear packed and ready to go.

“You took a lot of jobs the last few years,” he comments, tilting his head at Ryan. “Heard about a bunch of them. I’m sure there’s more I didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, carefully.

Geoff shifts. “You have fun in Europe?”

“I wasn’t holidaying,” Ryan replies. “I was working.”

“You could do both,” Geoff points out. “That’s the thing about our job. You have more money than you know what to fucking do with. I went to Hawaii,” he adds. “But it’s never fun travelling alone.”

Ryan stares at him, then turns away. When he looks back at Geoff there’s something suspicious in it; Geoff just stares impassively back. Too-casual considering how their last interaction went.

“We’re not here to have fun,” Ryan says flatly, and Geoff’s implacable facade falters, just for a second.

“We used to,” he points out. “On heists.”

Ryan can’t argue with that, and he shoves his gun back into his belt. But that is the thing. This isn’t used-to.

“Whatever you’re looking for here,” he grunts, “Bringing us back like this - you’re not gonna get it.”

Geoff is silent a moment, his previous cheer fading a bit.

“Even so,” he says finally. “It was good. To see Gavin again. Even if it’s awkward… I missed him, and Michael. And you-”

He breaks off as Ray walks in from the living room, all of them freezing as they notice each other.

“Sorry,” Ray says, awkwardly, and makes an aborted sort of motion back towards the door. “Am I interrupting something-”

“No,” Geoff says, too quickly. “We’re leaving in a minute, anyway.”

Ray nods, shuffling over to the table to put his own gear down. He glances at Ryan, a little darting look. The other man’s shoulders have gone very stiff, and he moves his arm out of the way when Ray gets close, careful not to touch him. Ray looks pained. The two of them still have not spoken once.

The way Geoff looks at Ray now is a little softer, a little worried, almost. But even he, too, does not speak to him, turning away after a moment to check the time, and Ray moves to sit at the end of the table, pulling his own phone out. He cuts a small and lonely figure.

-

“Last drinks,” Michael announces, when they’re finally all gathered in the living room and ready to go. He says it before it has time to get awkward, and the others rush to nod and get their glasses out. It’s a tradition, more than anything, but enough crews do it that it doesn’t mean anything particularly special to them.

“Ryan?” Michael asks, when the other man produces a glass too. He didn’t used to drink much before, but now he holds out his cup and lets Michael fill it. Ray declines with a wave of his hand; Michael fills everyone else’s but Jack’s, setting the bottle on the table near the other man and letting him pour his own. Jack bites his lip but says nothing - he and Michael do not look at each other, or clink their glasses together when everyone else does, knocking back the drinks quickly, Ryan lifting the bottom of his mask to get his down.

“To gold,” Gavin announces after a moment.

It was never about the money before.

But there is little else to say now, because they are not the Fake AH Crew any more - not really - so-

“Let’s get rich,” Geoff declares, and there’s a half hearted cheer from all of them before they shuffle out.

-

-

-

 **05:20:** The heist begins.

-

 **05:21:** It is a clear dawn. Despite the hour the sun is already above the horizon, rising early the way it does in summer here. It smells awful by the docks, sun-baked sewerage and brine, the dirty water of Achievement City harbour lapping gently at the pier. Their target is exactly where they expect it to be; a ship down one quiet end of the bay. It’s large, several men already visible patrolling along the deck.

-

 **05:25:** “I’m in position,” Ray says. He’s on a roof nearby, watching the ship through the scope of his rifle’s lens; separate and away from the others. Just a voice over the radio for now. It’s easier that way, that’s why Geoff planned it like that. 

“Good, Ray,” Geoff says now, and Ray shifts on the hard concrete of the roof, lying on his stomach. The sight of the others milling down below is at once foreign and too familiar. It has been so long, after all, since they were all in the one spot, but the usual buzzing excitement of a job isn’t there. It’s both nostalgic and sickening.

-

 **05:33:** “Ready,” Michael announces. “3, 2-”

The bombs go off.

-

 **05:38:** Ryan and Jack surge in from opposite ends of the boat. The blueprints committed to memory; the top deck is a weaving maze of crates but Ryan picks his way through them easily. 

“Jesus Christ dude,” Ray mutters, watching from above-

Ryan’s movements are brutal, swift, _efficient_ , as he cuts from guard to guard. Shooting them, or slitting their throats; jumping down on one man from atop the crates and snapping his neck with ease before throwing him overboard in one fluid motion. There’s an elegant grace to it that they haven’t seen in a long time; Ray’s mouth is dry as he watches. The joking banter that used to offset Ryan’s violence isn’t present; he just grunts a little now and then, or curses under his breath; it has them uneasy to watch, suddenly.

-

 **05:42:** A gunshot rings out too close to Jack’s head; he whips around, turning just in time to see the man who had crept up too close behind him crumple to the ground, a neat hole between his eyes-

“Ray?” Jack gasps - he’d nearly jumped out of his skin and breathes heavily now as he notices the knife in the dead man’s hand-

“I gotcha,” Ray says flatly, and Jack looks up to where he knows the other is watching and gives a small nod.

-

 **05:46:** One side of the deck clear, Gavin and Geoff dart across and towards the cabin. They meet Ryan at the door. The knife in his hand is dripping with blood and it’s spattered across the front of his jacket too. He gives them a curt nod as he pulls the door open for them.

“All clear in there,” he growls, and Geoff nods back.

“Come on,” he says, putting a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and steering him inside. Ryan’s eyes linger on them for a moment before he adjusts his grip on the knife and heads back into the fray.

-

 **05:52:** “Ray, I set the charges at the back of the boat. Needa get across the deck but it looks pretty crowded,” Michael says.

“I got you covered,” Ray replies.

“There’s a bunch of them-”

“I got it, Michael. Trust me.”

There’s an awkward silence over the comm. But a moment later Michael moves out from where he’d been at the rear of the ship planting more bombs, and there’s no hesitance in his motions when he runs across the deck, Ray picking off the men around him with vicious accuracy.

-

 **05:59:** “Can’t see Jack,” Ray pipes up after a minute.

“Jack?” Geoff asks immediately. “Come in.”

Nothing but silence. 

“Ryan, he near you anywhere?” Geoff asks.

“Negative. He might just have lost his comm,” Ryan replies, but Geoff’s hum is uneasy.

“I’ll look around,” Michael says, and Ray continues scanning over the ship’s deck.

-

 **06:03:** “I’m in,” Gavin says, as the safe clicks open under his nimble fingers. The job so far has been dour - not subdued but undercut by something grim and hard in all of them - but there’s genuine glee in his voice now.

Geoff cackles, rubbing his hands together.

“That was quick!”

“Had a lot of practice the last two years,” Gavin replies, and then squawks when Geoff’s hand reaches out to ruffle at his hair where he’s crouched before the safe. The motion is too friendly, too familiar - but he doesn’t bat it away.

“Good job,” Geoff says, and Gavin offers him a small grin before turning back to the safe.

-

 **06:05:** “Got the gold!” Geoff cries, and there’s a cheer from the others, despite everything that’s happened; the first proper sign of liveliness all morning.

“Sure it’s the real thing?” Ryan, ever careful, asks.

“I know gold when I see it,” Gavin replies - he’s kneeling still, caressing one of the shining bars before he wraps it back up and stuffs it in his bag. “You got most of the others up there?”

“Deck’s all clear,” Ray says, and Jack’s comm finally crackles back to life.

“Sorry guys, I was checking out the lower levels - they’re all clear too.”

“Great,” Geoff says. “Now let’s get the hell out of here-”

-

 **06:06:** The police show up.

- 

 **06:07:** “What the fuck,” Ryan cries - the flashing blue and red lights have come out of nowhere and there’s a hell of a lot of them - “Where the fuck did they-”

“Why the hell are the police here?!” Geoff and Gavin are emerging from the cabin now - and shots are already ringing out from the cars pulling up along the pier. Geoff grabs Gavin and yanks him back around the edge of the cabin - Michael’s already hurrying towards them; he was nearby-

“Sold out, we’ve been fucking sold out,” Ryan growls, but the police are starting to board the ship and they don’t have time to work it out right now-

-

 **06:08:** “Geoff, what’s the plan?” Jack demands. He’s crouched behind some of the crates now, separated from the others and hiding.

“Everyone jump overboard!” Gavin cries.

“ _Do not jump overboard_ ,” Geoff snaps. “No need to panic; we prepared for this - follow the back-up plan. Meet in the street, escape down the route we picked before-”

-

 **06:10:** The police have body armour and heavy guns; it turns out not to be quite so easy to get back off the ship. Ryan slips out; Ray covers Jack and gives him a route out too. The other three end up pinned down near the back of the ship.

“I’ve got explosives here,” Michael says frantically - the cops are closing in now but he’s separate from the others; by the side of the boat. “Fucking jump, I’ll set them off and we’ll slip out in the aftermath-”

“ _Jump_?” Geoff roars, but Michael’s already starting his countdown.

-

 **06:11:** Geoff and Gavin jump overboard.

- 

 **06:12:** A massive explosion rings out behind them, shaking the whole pier; Jack and Ryan stumble where they’re scrambling to get to the escape route.

In the ensuing commotion Michael slips out too.

-

 **6:17:** Chaos. Police milling about everywhere - the rest of the docks evacuating - the ship burning now, though there’s more smoke than fire.

Geoff and Gavin drag themselves out of the water, coughing and waterlogged. They waste no time in rushing to meet the others - Michael’s covered in soot and ash but grinning maniacally at the thrill of getting to blow something up - the group waste no time in rushing towards the street they’ve planned to escape by, a tiny, narrow little laneway they’ve left their vehicles behind-

-

 **06:19:** The police are waiting for them.

There’s a blockade of cars, officers, riot shields sitting in wait, opening fire as soon as they skid into the street. Ryan’s the first one there; he gets hit, a glancing bullet that strikes him in the chest and sends him skidding backwards. His body armour takes the brunt of it but it knocks the wind out of him and it’s only Jack’s quick reflexes that have him hauling the other man up and tugging him back out of the road as gunfire rings out behind them.

“Alright?” he demands - Ryan nods, his breath noisy behind the mask as he gets his wind back, but he’s already straightening up, getting control of himself again - 

“Fuck,” Geoff spits, “The police are there, what the _fuck_ -”

“What do we do?” Gavin squawks-

-

 **06:20:** Another explosion. They duck and flinch, arms rising up to cover their heads. It came from the escape lane.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Ray snaps in their ear. “I shot a car, blew it up - it won’t distract them for long! Left, go left, there’s an alley there through to the warehouses-”

They obey instantly, sprinting left through the alley, the chaos and commotion behind them masking their escape-

-

-

Ray meets them where the alley emerges out into a large area packed with warehouses and boat sheds. It’s a grimy little place - the quiet, older end of the docks, not the other, large industrial side that’s always milling with people and vehicles. Here most of the buildings are no longer in use - abandoned, rundown factories and storage yards.

They run together, weaving in and out between buildings - but when the whir of a helicopter starts up overhead, Geoff makes a beeline for the nearest building and ushers them all inside.

It’s an old warehouse, long fallen into disuse and filled with old crates. It smells like must, mildew, rotting fish inside - but when Geoff slams the door shut behind them; when he bolts it and Jack and Michael move to help him drag some of the crates before the door - it feels secure. Secure enough, at least.

They wait, breathless - the helicopter passes by overhead. But the police are still out there, and they all know that it will be a while before they can safely emerge.

It’s not that dark in here - not in this room, at least, where there are gaps and patches in the roof that the morning sun is filtering through, dust motes hanging like constellations in every stream of light. Gavin coughs a few times, sleeve going up to cover his nose. This is the main room of the warehouse but there are others, off to the side - darker, shadowed.

Silence falls.

They stand in a loose circle, breathing heavily. Blood is rolling down Jack’s arm where a bullet nicked him. Geoff and Gavin are both still soaking wet, hair plastered to their heads, dripping onto the floor.

Ryan’s panting the hardest, one hand rubbing at his side where the bullet hit him - didn’t penetrate his armour, thankfully - but he straightens up then and charges forward. Seizes Geoff by the front of the shirt, propelling him back a few steps as he shakes him roughly.

“What the _fuck_ Ramsey,” he shouts, and Geoff’s hands rise to grip at his wrists.

“What?!” he yells back.

Ryan shakes him again. “Fucking bring us all back here for a _heist_ \- some heist! How much did the police fucking pay you then? To lure the rest of your old crew back in for them-”

He shoves Geoff violently back and he stumbles - Jack starts forward, but Geoff’s already straightening up. His face twisting in rage as he sizes up to Ryan.

“This _wasn’t me_ , asshat!” he shouts, voice cracking a little. “Why the fuck would I - I’m not in with the _pigs_ , Jesus _fucking_ Christ - they must’ve found out somehow, or they were in the area-”

“How the fuck did they know about the escape route then?” Ryan demands, and Geoff goes very still as it seems to sink in.

They all freeze.

“No one knew about that change except us,” Jack realises, quietly - “We only changed that this morning - but they were _waiting_ for us-”

Geoff’s fists clench. When he speaks again his voice is very quiet, some cold fury on his face-

“Someone in this God damn room sold us out,” he says.

A beat.

They all look around at each other, suspicious. Take it all in - they’re exhausted, bruised - and _distant_ \- no one here knows the others any more - and someone here, someone _here_ -

“N-none of us would do that,” Gavin speaks up. He’s shaking but then again he’s dripping wet still, and while it’s sunny outside it’s quite cool in the shade of this room - “Why does no one _trust_ each other?”

“Why the _fuck do you think_ , Gav,” Michael snaps, fists clenched by his sides, glaring around at everyone.

Gavin shakes his head. “No - come on, no matter… no matter what happened, one of us wouldn’t _do_ this to the others! We _wouldn’t_.”

There’s a plea in it, but it falls flat and empty. Ryan lets out a bitter laugh.

“Wake up,” he says sharply. “Someone _did_.”

Gavin bites his lip and turns away. The reality of the situation sinking in now. There is no other way the police could have known. They were the only six in the room when they decided to change the escape route. He sighs, reaching up to rub his eyes, and when he turns back to the others his face is as hard as everyone else’s.

“I don’t fucking care who did it,” Ray pipes up. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Michael rounds on him. 

“If you don’t want to investigate it, that means it was probably you,” he says, and Ray scowls.

“Fuck off. I blew up that car, I gave you all the chance to escape. Besides, why would I want you all dead?”

“Michael’s right,” Ryan says darkly, turning towards Ray now as well - “Ray doesn’t fucking care about us any more-”

“And you do?” Geoff cuts in.

Ryan stiffens, almost surprised, before laughing again, harshly. 

“If I wanted to kill you all, I’d do it myself,” he says.

But Jack is frowning, looking at Ryan now too.

“Maybe you don’t want us dead. Maybe you just want us got by the police.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Surprisingly, it’s Ray who pipes up, stepping forward next to Ryan. “You _know_ Ryan, he’s not - you know he’s not just the Vagabond. You _know_ he cares about us.”

“Oh, Ray,” Ryan murmurs, something mocking in it.

“Don’t act like this,” Ray snaps at Jack, who just stares back at him, something almost pitying in his face.

But Gavin is shaking his head now, too, hand going to rub at his wrist.

“Our business - this world - it turns people mean. They stop caring. And you - you’re so cold now. I think maybe you would do this to us,” he says, and Ryan stiffens.

“Finally he grows up,” he sneers. “But honestly? It wasn’t me.”

“Take off your mask and say that to my face,” Gavin challenges, lifting his chin, and Ryan steps menacingly towards him, hand reaching up to adjust his mask protectively.

“I’m gonna fucking slap you in a minute,” he warns. “How do we know _you_ didn’t do it, huh? You’ve been so far away the last two years - we don’t know _what_ you were up to!”

Gavin lets out an indignant squawk as all eyes turn to him, speculating. 

“I was in bloody England!” he protests. “Why would I work with the police _here_?”

“Any one of us could have done it,” Michael mutters. “We were all alone at some point this morning.”

Ryan turns away from Gavin and points at Geoff again.

“You planned this whole thing,” he points out - “You’re the one who wanted us back here-”

Geoff shakes his head, eyes wide and angry.

“You know what? Maybe I organised this but bringing us all back in - finding out the gold was gonna be coming in and we could try and steal it - it was _Jack_ who came to me with this fucking idea!” he says, and everyone jerks at this new information, turning to Jack now - “Where the hell’d you go during the heist? Your comm cut out for a good five minutes-”

“ _Nowhere_ ,” Jack cries, raising his hands defensively. “I was below deck, I told you!”

Everyone stares at him and he glowers at them all.

“Let’s be honest here,” he snaps, “It’s Michael and Ryan who hate us all. We all know that. If anyone wants to fuck us over it’d be _them_ -” 

“Fucking fight me, Jack,” Michael snaps, and Jack turns to him.

“Don’t make me,” he shoots back, and Michael glares. He moves forward, fists clenched, getting up in Jack’s face - Jack stares impassively back down at him and Geoff moves forward then-

“Fuck you,” Michael says, and-

“You have the most against all of us,” Jack shoots back, and-

“ _Ryan_ hates us the most,” Michael says, shoving at him-

Jack shoves back, but Ryan’s moving forward then too, and Geoff gets between Jack and Michael only for Ryan’s annoyed swipe to hit him instead-

Everyone’s shouting, suddenly, a mix of “Stop!” and “Fuck you!” and “It wasn’t fucking _me,_ okay-”

Ray hangs back, watching, wide-eyed - he looks over at Gavin, but the other man is watching the fray with a frown-

“ _Enough_ ,” Geoff roars finally, grabbing Michael by the back of the shirt and yanking him back from where by the looks of it he was about to go for Ryan’s throat - “Everyone fucking _stop_.”

Jack steps back immediately; Ryan’s still poised and ready to fight, but he stops as well, looking over at Geoff expectantly.

Michael tries to tug out of Geoff’s grip and the other man lets him go, but pushes him back over to where Gavin’s standing, keeping him away from Jack and Ryan.

“We’re fucking stuck in here until the police go,” Geoff says darkly. “So don’t jump at each other’s throats just yet. No need to fight. Not until we know for sure who did it.”

A tense silence falls. Geoff straightens up. He’s angry now, so angry - eyes burning, fists clenched, something horrified and disappointed and _furious_ in his stance. Not a miserable old drunk now, or even the kind Geoff they were once so close to - this is Ramsey, mob boss, leader of what used to be the biggest, baddest crew in the city - Ramsey who won’t take being cut in the heart like this.

“I’m gonna work out which fucking one of you did this,” he says coldly. “One of you is a liar, a fucking sellout- I can’t fucking believe this-”

“You’re the one who brought us back in,” Ryan says, and Geoff turns to him, stare so icy that it sends even the Vagabond into silence.

“I didn’t,” he replies quietly, “Expect this from one of you.”

He glares around at all of them. Michael glares back; Ray is staring up at the ceiling, Jack and Gavin at the floor.

“Someone here is a fucking traitor,” Geoff snaps, “And I’m gonna find out who.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My little fanmix](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/six-guns) for this story~
> 
> So... who do you think it was? >)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention in the last chapter but it's definitely one of the six of them. Not another RT person or some outside enemy. :')

**1 HOUR TRAPPED**

Gavin sits on top of one of the crates in the warehouse, some distance away from everyone else. They are all scattered about, have separated away to sulk and lick their wounds.

He pulls his knees up to his chest and shivers a bit. It’s cold in the shadows of this room but Geoff has already claimed one of the spots where sunlight is streaming through the roof, and Ryan the other. He picks at where his wet shirt is clinging to him, growing cold and clammy now, and futilely tries to wring it out a little.

“Are you okay?”

Ray has crept up behind him and Gavin jumps a little at his voice. His shoulders stiffen as Ray moves around to stand in front of him. The other man’s eyes are soft with concern.

“I’m fine,” Gavin says, tightly.

Ray looks at him for a moment, then shrugs his hoodie off his shoulders and holds it out.

“You’re all wet. You’ll get sick.”

Gavin makes no move to take it. “I don’t get sick.”

Ray snorts. “Yeah, right, you’ll just overcome it with the power of your mind or what fucking ever. Stop being an idiot and just take the damn jacket. You have to be cold.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” Gavin says. But then, when Ray sighs and starts drawing his arm back, he snatches the jacket anyway and strips his own soaked button down off before putting the dry garment on and pulling it tight around him, hands jammed under his armpits for warmth.

Ray watches him with a raised eyebrow before pulling up a crate and sitting opposite him.

“Thanks,” Gavin says after a moment, and Ray just shrugs. There’s an awkward silence in which they look anywhere but at each other. Then, after a moment, Gavin lets out a sigh.

“Did you do it?” he asks flatly.

Ray turns his gaze back to him.

“Do what?”

“Sell us out,” Gavin says. Ray tenses. “You know we all suspect you because you left first, and you never got in touch again, and now you’ve come back so suddenly. And you’re still the only one we don’t know _why_.”

“I didn’t do it,” Ray says, but Gavin just shakes his head desperately.

“See, we don’t _understand_ , Ray. How can we trust anything you say now?”

“Jesus, Gav, why the hell would I do something like this? Why would I want any of you arrested or - or _dead_? I left,” he admits, swallowing hard, “But I didn’t leave to hurt you. It wasn’t… it wasn’t because I didn’t like you.”

“Sure,” Gavin says, turning his head away, and Ray frowns. He reaches out and grips Gavin’s knee, jostling him.

“Gavin. It _wasn’t_. I know we were going somewhere - all of us - but that’s not why I left. I never meant for you to see it like I was rejecting you.”

“So how the hell were we _meant_ to see it then?” Gavin cries, throwing his hands up. “How was - how was _I_ meant to see it? You know damn well what I’m like Ray, you know I - I worry about that sort of thing. Well guess what. Whatever you _intended_ , we couldn’t hold without you. But I suppose it doesn’t matter much now. It could have been any one of us who did this. And it could have been any one of us who’s responsible for us breaking apart because it _seems_ like we’d all just blame you, but Ryan doesn’t. Not as much as the rest of us. He blames _me_.”

He jerks his leg away and Ray lets go of him, but stays leaning forward earnestly.

“Nothing that happened was your fault,” he insists, and Gavin lets out a bitter laugh.

“Tell that to Ryan and Michael,” he says, and Ray bites his lip, looking away. 

Another tense pause. Then Gavin sighs and shakes his head.

“You insist you didn’t want to hurt us. That it’s not anyone’s fault. But you can’t ignore what happened, or how it affected us. I tried…” He trails off for a moment, swallowing hard, but pushes on. “I tried to ignore just how fucked up everything was after you left. To act like nothing was going wrong, like we weren’t fighting all the time, like everything was just fine. But it only made things worse. Look where it got us now.” 

Ray doesn’t reply. Just stares at Gavin, eyes a little red, not even frowning - just sad and silent.

“I don’t know what you were thinking.” The anger in Gavin’s voice is tired and flat. “You had to know we wouldn’t just be okay without you. You had to know we cared about you too.”

“I knew,” Ray replies, softly, but can’t seem to find any words to explain himself beyond that, and after a moment Gavin looks away again and Ray rises, awkwardly, and walks off.

-

Jack grimaces as he shrugs his jacket off, then his shirt. He sits alone, inspecting the bleeding wound on his arm. 

Just a graze. The bullet only nicked him, and the bleeding has mostly stopped by now. Still, he winces a little as he wipes away the trail of dried blood that’s run down his arm in rivulets, sticky between his fingers, and then dabs at the wound, treating it with the minimal first aid supplies he has on his person.

He looks up now and then to keep track of the others. Geoff is moving now. Has gotten up from where he was crouched - his wet clothes a little drier after he positioned himself under the sunlight - and is stalking about the warehouse, pausing now and then to suspiciously eye at each of the others. He’ll stop and just stare for a long moment as though trying to puzzle out what they’re doing. When it’s Jack’s turn Geoff stops a few metres from him and scowls in his direction for several minutes. Jack looks away, not acknowledging him. Neither Geoff nor any of the others offer to come and help with his wound.

After a moment Geoff wanders off again and Jack lets out a little huff of breath. He shrugs his shirt back on, the graze bandaged now, and looks about. Ray and Gavin are sitting together some distance away, talking quietly. Michael further past them - he looks furious, fists clenched, foot tapping agitatedly against the ground. Ryan is in the sunlight with his back to Jack - even if he were facing him his mask would make him impossible to read anyway.

He leans back against the wall and lifts his hands up, frowning. They’re shaking, and he clenches his fists, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “Stay calm, stay calm.”

He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

“This did not turn out how I planned. But you’re fine. You’re _fine_. Come on Jack, just breathe…”

-

After a time Ryan also rises and begins to wander around casting everybody suspicious looks. He and Geoff finally meet at the side of the warehouse where they pause and stand staring warily at one another.

“Ryan,” Geoff greets, flatly.

“Geoff,” Ryan replies, and tilts his head. “You were the one who brought us all here. So I still think you might have done this.”

“I’m the one trying to fucking work out who sold us out!” Geoff snarls, and Ryan scoffs.

“That’s what someone trying to pin the blame on someone else would do.”

“Well it’s exactly what you’re doing too, stalking around like that,” Geoff points out. “Sounds like you want to find someone to blame as well.”

“Okay,” Ryan says. “I don’t trust you. You don’t trust me. So let’s talk. Get some answers.”

“Fine,” Geoff snaps.

They glare at each other.

“I heard about some of your jobs,” Geoff says coldly. “Nasty things. Lots of killing. But you work so secretively that there are months and months where you could have been doing anything that I’d never be able to find out about. Like working with the police.”

“Because the police would work with the most notorious assassin in the country,” Ryan snaps back. “They’d shoot me on sight, not offer me a job. You, on the other hand - I think you’ve gone to seed. Your hold on your territory isn’t as strong since the crew broke apart. So maybe you need a new job. Maybe you need some extra money. Sell out the people who you think abandoned you, get some cash, get the police on side - you’re set.”

“I still work with Burnie a lot,” Geoff points out. “But you - you’re not loyal to anyone, not anymore.”

“You’re the one who called us all back in. You say it’s because we’re the best but you know,” Ryan hisses, “You _know_ you could get another team just as easily, so why us? Why risk the drama of bringing six people who hate each other’s guts to work on such a sensitive job?”

“Personal business aside, you know we work well together,” Geoff replies. “You can’t deny that. Even when we first met - we all clicked. We know each other’s styles. Of course I want people I know on a job as big as this. Besides - it was Jack who came up with it - it made sense when he explained."

“I’m not buying it.” Ryan shakes his head. “Why would you agree? I doubt this was just a job. You wanted something else.”

Geoff clenches his jaw tightly and Ryan takes a step closer to him, forcing him to tilt his head back a little to meet his eyes.

“You wanted something else out of this,” Ryan repeats, voice low. “Didn’t you?”

Geoff glowers at him, gritting his teeth - but after a moment his eyes flicker away and his voice is tight as he says, “How else could I get Gavin and Ray to come back?”

Ryan processes this for a moment. Then he gives a cruel snort.

“You care that much about them?”

“Fuck you,” Geoff snaps, “As if you don’t. Stop _pretending_ that you don’t.”

“I learned where caring gets me,” Ryan says frostily, and then barks out a harsh laugh. “Maybe it is true. Maybe you didn’t sell us out - maybe you’re just that pathetic after all that you called us back here to try and _reconcile_ with us. I see it now. The mighty Ramsey reduced to crying and begging to get back together.”

Geoff blinks a few times, confused, and then it’s his turn to snort and sneer.

“Don’t project, _Ryan_. I’m not the one who cried and begged.”

Ryan’s shoulders go very stiff. His fists tremble at his sides but Geoff holds his ground, chin lifted defiantly. Something cruel in it now that he’s found a hurt to press at. For a moment it seems Ryan is about to hit him. Then he turns on his heel and strides swiftly away, Geoff staring coldly after him.

- 

**2 HOURS TRAPPED**

Michael walks through the dark shadows of the warehouse, hand against the wall, doing a complete circuit of the building. Exploring the few rooms that lead out of the main storage area and trying every door. It is to no avail; every one is locked and bolted, some of them even held shut with heavy chains. And every window is boarded over or too high from the ground to escape from. Save the door they came in by, there is no way out of here.

He is tugging at the padlock of a side exit when Geoff comes up behind him.

“What are you doing?” he demands, and Michael jumps a mile, spinning around with one hand going to his gun.

“Jesus, you fucking scared me,” he hisses.

Geoff raises his eyebrows. “Looking for a way out?”

“Checking if there is one.” Michael lifts his chin. “I don’t wanna be stuck in here. It fucking stinks and if the police break in we’re screwed. But it looks like there isn’t any other way out.” He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. “Great heist, Geoff. Ends with us all fucked over - just like last time.”

Geoff flinches, then scowls.

“This isn’t like last time,” he snaps. “This time, someone betrayed us.”

“Same situation. We’re fucked because no one trusts each other. Well, I guess we did trust each other last time, but it wasn’t enough, was it. Not enough to stop things going so wrong. Not enough to keep us together afterwards.”

Geoff stares at him. Michael stares back. His voice is light and mocking but his face is very hard.

“Last time,” Geoff says quietly, “I admit that I fucked things up in planning. That disaster was my fault. But this time - this time it wasn’t me. It was one of you who fucking turned on the rest of us. One of you who _betrayed_ us. And when I find out who it fucking was - I’m not gonna forgive that.”

Michael presses his lips together tightly.

“You shouldn’t,” he says, and then lets out a bitter laugh. “But God knows the rest of us still haven’t forgiven you for last time. Or each other. Or ourselves, probably.”

Geoff raises his eyebrows and gives Michael one last, long, searching look before turning and walking away.

-

Ryan walks to the front door. He climbs up onto one of the crates they pulled in front of it and peers through the crack. The others, scattered about, look up intently.

“I can still hear sirens,” he says. “But they haven’t reached here yet.”

“Safer to stay inside,” Jack adds.

“No one is fucking leaving,” Geoff snaps. “Not until we find out who did this. If you’re innocent you have nothing to fear. If you try to leave - I’ll know you did it.”

“Or maybe we just don’t wanna be stuck in here with the rest of you assholes,” Michael grumbles, but no one makes a move to leave.

-

Ray looks down at the others from where he’s climbed up a stack of crates to sit right in the rafters, balanced on the precarious wooden slats with an ease that comes from spending most of his career perched up on high places with his sniper rifle. It feels safer up here, away from everyone else. Heights he’s comfortable with.

He sees Ryan, pacing down below before seeming to tire and crouching by the wall to rest. His eyes remain fixed on the other man for a few long moments. After a while he shifts and makes as though to climb down, but then stops himself and settles back, watching again.

“Come on you wuss. Just go. Just fucking talk to him,” he whispers, digging his nails into the palms of his hands.

Ryan stands up and begins to pace again and Ray sighs, burying his face in his hands as he stays exactly where he is.

-

**3 HOURS TRAPPED**

Gavin sits cross legged atop the same crate, backpack in his lap, turning the gold over in his hands, fingers running over the shiny metal. He tilts it and watches light shimmer prettily over its surface.

Michael comes up behind him so quietly he doesn’t notice, at least until the other man grabs his hood and yanks so hard he nearly falls off the crate.

“Ray gave you his jacket,” Michael observes, letting go of Gavin and coming to stand in front of him. “That’s _cute_.”

Gavin glances up at him, startled as he balances himself again and shoves the gold back into his bag.

“He saw I was still all wet.”

“How remarkably tender of him.” Michael’s arms are folded and he’s made no move to sit down. Gavin squints up at him, not quite glaring yet.

“He cares about us, Michael,” he says, unexpectedly defensive, and Michael laughs.

“If he cares so much why’d he leave?”

Gavin falters, but there’s something petulant and stubborn in his face as he glances around to look for Ray, doesn’t find him, and then turns back to Michael.

“People get scared, you know,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what was going through his head. But he worked alone for so long before he met us. Everything changing so fast must have been a big shift. I don’t know. We do stupid things when we’re afraid.”

Michael seems surprised by his answer, his mean smirk faltering momentarily before he forces it back into place.

“Why are you making excuses for him?” he demands. “He left you. You weren’t _enough_ for him.”

Gavin doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even rise from the crate. Just flaps a hand at Michael, irritably.

“Oh, bugger off. I’m not gonna get into this with you. Blame me all you want, it won’t change a thing. But Jack’s right, you know. You do hate us the most.” He tilts his head, peering up at Michael. “Did you do this?”

“You really think I’d sell you out?” Michael demands.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Gavin says, voice a little softer now. “I trust my boi, even after everything that happened. I don’t think you’d hurt me or Ray or any of the rest of us. I think it was Ryan, honestly.”

“Ryan’s turned hard,” Michael agrees. “The way he was before. The way people in this job get.”

“Exactly,” Gavin says, and bites his lip. “But if it wasn’t him… if it wasn’t him that means it was Jack, or Ray, or - or Geoff. Or _you_. So tell me Michael - what were you doing these last two years?”

“Sharing and caring time, huh?” Michael sneers. “You don’t think it’s me but you’re gonna interrogate me anyway. Little detective Gavin thinks he can solve everything, make things work out.” 

“Nothing’s gonna work out,” Gavin snaps. “Stop acting like that. Stop acting like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better. I’m not _stupid_ , Michael. I didn’t think we could fix this when I came back here. And I sure as hell don’t think we can fix it now. Are you avoiding my question?”

“I’m not avoiding your fucking question. I wasn’t doing _anything_ \- small jobs. Blowing shit up.”

“Give me names of crews.”

“Fuck off,” Michael snaps. “You want names? Funhaus. I went over to Funhaus and worked with them for a bit.” He steps up into Gavin’s space, brows furrowed, defensive now. “Now your fucking turn, boi - what have you been up to in England?”

The question is simple enough but seems to startle Gavin; he flounders a moment before answering.

“...I was with Dan.”

“Doing what?”

“Jobs.” Gavin’s hands twist nervously in his lap, fiddling with the zip of the hoodie - picking the backpack up and putting it down again. Michael’s eyes track his movements before narrowing in on his face.

“Ryan’s right. You were so far away you could have been doing anything and we’d never fucking know about it. What sort of jobs? Stealing shit?”

“Yeah - diamonds, we stole diamonds-”

“Where? London?”

“I - yes, London.” Gavin’s tripping over his words now and Michael crouches down, getting into his face.

“How many diamonds? Who’d you sell them to? How much?”

“Michael-”

“You’ve never forgotten details of a job before,” Michael snaps, “So why can’t you give me a straight answer now? Whose diamonds were they, Gav?”

Gavin’s mouth opens and shuts a few times and Michael barks out a laugh.

“ _Diamonds_. You’d love if I believed that, wouldn’t you? That you and Dan had some _smashing old adventures_ over there - that you were just fine without us. If I called Dan right now and asked about diamonds he wouldn’t have a fucking clue, would he? There were no diamonds.”

“Michael…”

“So what, then? Two years, so fucking far away from the rest of us. Didn’t take any jobs. So what were you doing?”

“I wasn’t selling you guys out,” Gavin snaps. “I wasn’t working with the police - I was _overseas_ , for God’s sake!”

“Then tell me what you were doing,” Michael insists, and Gavin looks away, a vein jumping in his neck with how hard he’s clenching his jaw. Michael scoffs and starts to turn away when Gavin looks up at him with a glare.

“Maybe you’d know what I was doing if you’d picked up your bloody phone,” he snaps, and Michael freezes, going very stiff. 

Gavin watches him intently. 

“So you did get my calls then.” He lets out a snort. “Well. In that case, don’t act like you didn’t do your own abandoning.”

Michael scowls, rounding on him. 

“That’s different. Anything that happened after you all left is _different_. You left me first - you all left _me_.” His voice is rising now, shaking a little - “Every last _God damn one of you_. You say it’s not your fault, well it’s a _fifth_ your fault because what did you do, Gav? You wouldn’t lift a God damn finger to fix things and the second you couldn’t keep denying it had all gone to shit, you packed up and went crawling back to soldier boy!”

“I called you though, Michael,” Gavin cuts in, upset now - “I tried to call and-”

“A year too fucking late, boi,” Michael says - and it’s more miserable than angry now. Like he’s glaring to cover the fact that his face is flushed and his eyes a bit red now. “Just. Too fucking late.”

He stalks off and Gavin stares after him before turning back around with a sigh - only to pause as he sees Geoff standing some distance away, watching them. He stiffens - the other man is close enough, and their voices loud enough, that he would have been able to hear everything. Gavin’s brows furrow and he turns away, jamming his hands in his pockets defensively before slinging his bag over his shoulder and going to sit elsewhere.

-

Some time later Geoff finishes another circuit of the room. Pauses - frowns - then looks around, frantically.

“Where the fuck,” he begins, then looks up and relaxes at the sight of Ray up in the rafters, barely visible in the shadows save for the white of his undershirt. He sighs, reaching his hands up to rub at his eyes.  

“This is fucked up,” he murmurs then, and looks across the room at Ryan, who is leaning against the crates like some lurking spectre. He frowns, hand going to his own gun before he pauses, thoughtfully.

“Hey assholes,” he hollers out. “Everyone get back over here.”

Despite the chaos of today he’s still the leader of this not-so-merry band, and they obey, drifting over from their various places about the warehouse. Wary, casting careful glances at each other. Not standing too close.

“Did you find something?” Jack asks, and Geoff shakes his head.

“No. But I want all of you to put your guns and weapons here,” he says. “For safety.”

Gavin takes his gun from his holster and starts to hold it out, but pauses as the others start up a barrage of indignant noises.

“Fuck no,” Michael snaps, and-

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m handing my weapons over,” Ryan cuts in angrily.

Ray just caresses his pink sniper rifle and shoots Geoff a wary look.

“You really think whoever betrayed us is likely to attack us?” Jack asks quietly.

“I don’t fucking know what I think any more,” Geoff replies. He glares around at each of them. “But one of you lot didn’t have a damn problem telling the police where to go to shoot at us, so forgive me if I don’t _trust_ any of you.”

“Well we don’t fucking trust you either,” Michael says sharply. “So no, I’m not handing my fucking gun over, and just try and take it from me, bitch.”

“Why do you want our guns?” Ryan adds, suspiciously. “Sounds a hell of a lot like you’re trying to disarm us.”

Geoff holds his hands up defensively.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “Just a thought.”

“This is stupid,” Ray cuts in then, “We should be looking for a way out of here, not sitting around glaring at each other and hoping we somehow work out who sold us out. It doesn’t even fucking matter. We get out of here and part ways and never see each other again.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Michael says snippily, and Ray turns to him.

“No,” he says, too sincerely - it makes Ryan’s shoulders stiffen, Gavin’s head whip around, Jack’s eyes widen - “I wouldn’t. But no matter what I want, someone in here _did_ betray us, and I don’t know that we can come back from that. But we’re not getting anywhere sitting around while Geoff tries to work out who did this.”

“He’s not very fucking good at it,” Ryan says, and Geoff gives a great indignant cry.

“Forgive me,” he shoots back, “For struggling to wrap my head around the fact that one of you - one of _you_ \- would do something like this to the rest of us! I don’t _want_ to believe it. But it happened. One of us did it. And I _will_ find out who. I already have my suspicions.”

He glares at each of them in turn. Gavin puts his gun back in its holster, shuffling his feet - Jack looks away - Michael glares right back - Ray tuts impatiently, glancing at the door - Ryan just stares, cold, impassive.

“We should sit down,” Jack says, “And get everyone to say exactly what they were doing the last two years, and then call people to check. And then say exactly what we did the entire time in the house, and cross-check. And then vote on who we think did it.”

“It’s not fucking school camp, Jack,” Ryan scoffs. “We’re not gonna sit in a big circle and talk about our feelings.”

“We can’t just leave it up to a vote,” Michael adds.

“What, should we just leave it up to Geoff then?” Jack demands, and Ryan tilts his head.

“Good point. Some old drunkard’s judgment who could well have doing it himself-”

“Alright, you can all fuck off now,” Geoff snaps. “Go do - whatever the fuck it is you’re all doing. Sulking.”

They slink off, hands protectively at their guns - tense now at the possibility that whichever one of them did this might be looking to hurt them more than just by feeding information to the police.

-

Jack is sitting on one of the crates, rubbing at his bandage - picking at the dried blood that’s run down his arm and caked beneath his fingernails. A little way away Michael is crouched, backpack open in front of him, looking through his leftover explosives. They glance at each other and their eyes meet as they both freeze awkwardly. Then, after a second, Jack rises and walks over. Michael stiffens but doesn’t leave.

“Hey,” Jack says, tentatively.

Michael narrows his eyes. “What do you want?”

“To talk. We haven’t yet, really.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” Michael straightens up, coldly. “Not after what you did.”

“Michael…”

“I’m mad at Gavin because he didn’t even try,” Michael snaps. “But, you know, it’s _Gavin_. He’s got his weird issues about relationships and things. I don’t like it, but I can sorta understand why he’d give up on us when everything went wrong. But you... _You-_ ”

“I can explain, Michael,” Jack begins, but Michael shakes his head.

“It’s been two years. I don’t fucking care. But I do care about _now_.” He tilts his head. “Geoff said this - bringing us back - was your idea. That he organised it but you brought it to him. That true?”

Jack pauses as though searching for the right answer. But Michael glares, and after a moment Jack nods.

“Yeah,” he says, and runs a hand through his hair.  “It’s true.” 

“Why?” Michael demands. “Why would you do that? None of us had seen each other in so long - we could have gotten over it - we could have tried to forget. What the hell would possess you to drag all these issues up again by getting us back _together_?”

His voice is shaking and Jack looks upset. He’s silent for a long moment, Michael staring up at him miserably. But all Jack does, finally, is sigh.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “It doesn’t matter now because nothing went how I thought it would.”

“What, you thought we could _fix_ things-”

“I didn’t think we’d changed so much that one of us would betray the others to the God damn police!” Jack snaps - and he’s angry now, properly angry, and Michael glares back at him - “It doesn’t matter what I intended.”

“Why fucking bother bringing us back in when you wanted us gone in the first place?”

“That’s not true. I never wanted you gone-”

“You practically fucking encouraged us to leave, Jack!” Michael shouts - nearly _screams_ \- “You fucking told Geoff and I not to go after Gavin. You didn’t stop Ryan when he left. You encouraged Geoff to disband the crew-”

“I-”

“You left _me_ ,” Michael cries, voice cracking a little. “We could have stuck together. We didn’t have to be alone. But you practically broke up with me, Jack - you practically fucking told me to get lost. After everything that had happened you just wanted to smash what little we had left apart even _fucking_ more. So _why_? Why do all that? Why do all that and then fucking make us come back here and face it all again?”

Jack flinches. Michael’s fists are clenched and he’s breathing heavily now and Jack is staring at him, eyes wide and almost teary, lips pressed miserably together.

“I thought,” Jack chokes out then, “I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it’d be better, okay?”

Michael just shakes his head.

“Better?” he croaks. “Better to have no one than just to have _me_ , is that it?”

“I thought,” Jack replies, “We needed space. All of us. That we could fix things later if we only separated and had some time to ourselves first-”

“Oh my God.” Michael lets out a shaky laugh. “ _Space_. That’s fucking rich. Well, you got it, Jack. You got two fucking years of space. So how’s it feel, then? You got us back but someone here’s changed. Someone here’s not gonna stand for what you did. So who do you think it is, then, huh? Who do you think you hurt enough that they turned on all the rest of us? You think it’s Geoff, who you fucking convinced to get us all back together? You think he turned on you? Or Ray, who left before you could tell him to leave? Or Ryan, who you pretty much broke to pieces? God, look at him now. He could do it. You made him that way.”

“Stop it,” Jack says, flinching at every word.

“Maybe it’s our precious Gavin,” Michael sing-songs. “You let him run away and now he’s come back to hurt you too. Or maybe,” he adds, glancing up over Jack’s shoulder to see Geoff passing by as he does another round of the warehouse, “Maybe it’s you. Maybe even now you’re lying to me. Because I find it very hard to believe you’d be naive enough - _stupid_ enough - to think you could call us all back in and things would just be hunky-dory. So why else would you ask us to come back?”

“Maybe I am just that stupid,” Jack snaps, voice thick - “Maybe I still trusted you all - _loved_ you all - enough to think you could make it work. But you’re right, Michael. Someone here just wants to hurt us. And it _does_ hurt. I still care enough that it hurts.”

“Boo fucking hoo,” Michael says. “If you cared so much you shouldn’t have deliberately broken us apart in the first place.”

“I didn’t deliberately,” Jack begins, but pauses at Michael’s cold look, and glances guiltily away.

Michael just snorts, shaking his head.

“You could at least fucking admit it,” he says, and Jack bites his lip. Michael sighs, heavily, and throws his hands up before roughly grabbing up his backpack again.

“Well, at least now you can see what you fucking did to us,” he mutters, and Jack looks pained.

“I’m sorry for what happened back then,” he begins, but stops - Michael is barely listening, and all he does is snort at the words. “But I’m not sorry for running this job. I didn’t sell us out. Whoever did - that’s on them.”

“I’m not surprised this all went wrong,” Michael snaps. “Nothing works. We don’t fit together like we used to. All we can do now is hurt each other. So apology not fucking accepted, Jack.”

Jack bites his lip and watches him storm off. The second Michael’s gone, however, he lets out an angry hiss of breath and beats at the nearest crate with his fist until his knuckles are scraped and bleeding.

-

**4 HOURS TRAPPED**

“Do you have any food Geoff?” Gavin asks, plonking himself down on the floor beside the other man.

Geoff looks down at him and raises his eyebrows. “Thought it wasn’t my job to feed you any more.”

“Oh.” Gavin looks away. Then takes the gold out of his bag again and unwraps it, inspecting it once more before lifting one of the bars to his mouth and biting at it.

Geoff barks out a laugh. “What the fuck are you doing, idiot? You can’t eat _that_.”

“I _know that_ , Geoff. I’m checking if it’s real an’ all.” Gavin rubs a finger over the spot he bit. “It left a mark. Must be really pure.”

He stands up and starts to go but Geoff grabs his arm and tugs him back down.

“You stay right here. I need to ask you some questions,” he says, and Gavin stiffens. He pulls his arm away but stays where he is, watching Geoff warily. After a moment Geoff reaches into his pocket and produces a packet of mentos, throwing it into Gavin’s lap. Gavin glances down at it and his lips twitch before he starts tearing open the packaging.

“I heard you talking to Michael,” Geoff says, watching him. Gavin tenses a little, but continues ripping open the foil. “What were you doing in England the last two years?”

“You don’t think I did this, Geoff, surely,” Gavin says softly.

“Answer the question, Gav.” Geoff’s voice is stern and Gavin bites his lip.

“Did some jobs with Dan.”

“What sort of jobs?”

“Thefts mostly.”

“The entire two years?” Geoff insists, and Gavin looks up then, shoulders hunched defensively, eyes burning.

“Come _on_ , Geoff. I didn’t sell us out. How could you even think that I did it? You _know_ me. We - we lived together for so long - I would never sell any of us out, you _know_ that!”

“I don’t, Gavin,” Geoff shoots back, voice tight, “Not any more! We’ve all changed. I can see it in you, too. You’re different. You’re harder now. And I know how upset you were about… about how everything fell apart. You might well want revenge on the rest of us.”

“I think we all have cause to want revenge,” Gavin muttered. “Except maybe Ray.”

“Just tell me what you were doing,” Geoff orders, and Gavin closes his eyes for a moment before shaking his head insistently.

“No,” he says. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Have you got something to hide-”

“No,” Gavin snaps. “But I’m not gonna answer your stupid questions. You can investigate all you bloody well want but you won’t find anything because _I didn’t do it_. So I have nothing to worry about. But _you_ , Geoff,” he snaps then, “You changed too.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Geoff says harshly. “As if _I_ did this.”

“You’re different too now,” Gavin points out. “You… you have less hope. It’s like you don’t care so much any more, about the job, about - about heists and things. I checked in on you a little, back in England, just now and then, and you never did anything big after we broke up. I don’t think it was you, but it’s still _possible_. Hell, I didn’t want to think it was any of us but… but someone _did_. But Geoff - you don’t really think it was _me_ , do you?"

He stares earnestly up at Geoff, eyes wide, and Geoff scans his face for a long moment before biting his lip.

“I’d like to think I know you,” he says slowly, and Gavin’s lips twitch a bit.

“You do know me,” he replies. “Even if it’s been two years, it doesn’t change the fact that we were close. Really close.”

“We were.”

“So you know I wouldn’t do this, even for a million dollars!”

Geoff can’t help but laugh at that.

“Oh God, you and your million dollars questions.”

Gavin’s lips stretch into a grin and for a moment they smile at each other. For a moment, they remember - that length of time when the Fake AH Crew seemed to be at the top of the world - when Ramsey was king and Gavin was his prince, his shining golden boy - when they’d come back from every job richer-

But beyond that, too. The nights they’d spend in Geoff’s apartment; drinking, laughing at the silliest things. How Geoff would look at Gavin with something very fond and Gavin would look back with something almost _adoring_. How easily they’d touch. How easily they _did_ touch, whether it was Geoff’s hand curled around the back of Gavin’s neck, or Geoff’s head on his shoulder as they lay tangled on the couch together-

Or that one time, just before the heist when everything went so wrong - that one embrace. That one _kiss_.

Geoff’s smile fades a little as he seems to realise just where they are now, in this dark, stinking warehouse with their guns at the ready for fear of each _other_ \- and he looks so sad for a moment that Gavin’s smile fades too. He swallows, hard, and starts to reach out to touch Geoff’s arm only to falter and drop his hand again.

“At the time those two years felt like forever,” Geoff croaks out. “But now - now it seems like it went so fast. I can remember how close we were like it was just yesterday. How close _all_ of us were. Things were going so well - things were changing so quickly but it was all _good_. How did it all go so fucking wrong?”

“Maybe that’s it,” Gavin replies, softly - “Maybe things changed _too_ quickly. That heist scared us, Geoff. Or it scared me at least. I realised we’d gotten so close that when things went so wrong - when Ryan got hurt - I think that was it. The thought of losing someone terrified us. I think that’s why Ray left. I think that’s why we all left.”

“So it was my fault then,” Geoff says flatly. “ _I_ caused it to go wrong.”

Gavin presses his lips together. He doesn’t say yes. But he doesn’t deny it either. Geoff lets out a long sigh and starts to look away, miserable - but Gavin looks stricken at that, and reaches out and pokes Geoff’s knee, making him turn back around.

“I missed you a lot,” he admits. “All of you. But now things are so fucked that I wish I hadn’t come back.”

His voice is thick and upset. Geoff stares at him for a long moment, both of them not bothering now to hide just how tired and sad they have been for so long. Then Geoff starts to reach out, to pull Gavin into a hug - but before he can properly get his arms around him Gavin’s eyes widen and he puts a hand on Geoff’s chest, stopping him, pushing him away a bit.

“Gav,” Geoff says, hurt - Gavin just shakes his head.

“Sorry, I... I can’t.”

“Jesus.” Geoff looks stung, but his brow quickly furrows, annoyance covering hurt. “It’s just a fucking hug. What’s the problem? You guilty about something?”

“What? No,” Gavin snaps - and he looks annoyed now, crossing his arms. “Are you?”

“Of course not,” Geoff says coldly, but Gavin just scowls and throws the mentos back at him, Geoff ducking back to avoid getting hit in the face. Despite their words they both look guilty, something very controlled in it as they pointedly turn their backs on each other.

-

Ryan stands alone in one of the dark, shadowy side rooms of the warehouse. There is barely any light in here and the room is stuffy with crates - he sits on one of them, letting out a groan of breath, one hand going to his ribs as he lowers himself down.

Then he reaches up and pulls his mask up, just enough to get a hand underneath, and rubs at his eye.

It’s stinging and watery with tears - his face paint is running, smudging and sweaty after being kept on from so long. There’s some in his eye. Rubbing makes it worse and he lets out a curse, trying to reach to clean it properly without taking his whole mask off. But it’s hard when he has to reach up under it like this.

After a moment he pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the door into the main warehouse area.

No one.

Hesitantly he starts to pull his mask up properly, then freezes when, the second he does so, footsteps sound from outside. He lowers it back quickly, eye burning, standing and hand going to his gun - but Geoff passes by without looking into the room, and he sits down again with a huff. He doesn’t lift his mask again, just checks the clip of his gun and clicks the safety off before shoving it back in his belt.

-

Geoff stands in the centre of the warehouse, staring up at Ray, who has returned to the rafters. The other man is sitting, leaning against one of the support beams, but from here Geoff cannot see what he is looking at. Can only tell that he is very still, and has his rifle beside him.

He tilts his head and looks from Ray to one of the holes in the roof nearby through which sunlight is streaming. Then back at Ray, then at the hole again. It is close enough that if Ray were brave and agile enough he might be able to climb over to it and escape via the ceiling.

“Geoff.”

Jack’s voice makes him jump and he whips around, scowling.

“What, Fuckface?”

“Wow, okay. Hostile much.” Jack raises his hands defensively and Geoff’s frown deepens.

“Hostile is someone telling the fucking police our escape route so they can catch us. Or shoot us all dead, whichever. What do you want?”

“I want to talk. To try and work out together who could have done this.” Jack approaches, lowering his hands now but still wary. “Look - you and I planned this job. We know we can trust each other.”

“No,” Geoff says, “We really don’t.”

“Geoff. Come on.” Jack’s voice is pleading now. “We’ve known each other the longest. I know you’re not a sellout - you know that I’m not too.”

“I didn’t think any fucking one of us was a sellout, Jack. But here we are now!” Geoff throws his hands up and Jack flinches a bit. “You fucking convinced me this was a good idea but now I’m starting to wonder why you wanted this in the first place. Especially since you didn’t seem very eager for us to stick together two years ago.”

Jack looks pained. “That’s not how it was. But I know you want me to admit it, so - you’re right, I planned all this because I thought we might be able to get back together. That if we saw each other after so long we might realise how much we’d all missed each other and fix things. Didn’t fucking work,” he adds, with a bitter laugh, “But that was the idea. And I know we didn’t discuss it, but you were thinking it too. That’s why you agreed to organise this so easily.”

“Yeah,” Geoff says warily. “So here’s my theory. You and I arrange this. Except then Gavin shows up, and he’s distant. And Michael shows up and he’s still fucking pissed at you for what happened. And God, Ryan goes without saying. Ryan’s beyond fucking repair, man. So then you start getting pissed because your lovely little plans for reconciliation aren’t gonna work out. We’re all too hard and too angry. So you get angry too. You get so angry that when we change the escape plan, you think _well fuck all of you_ and sell us out as revenge for us not behaving in line with the happy little fairytale you built up in your head.”

Jack is staring at him, mouth hanging open. Geoff raises his eyebrows and Jack snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head furiously.

“What a fucking story!” he cries. “No, Geoff, that’s not it at _all-_ ”

“Then where’d you go during the heist, huh?” Geoff demands. “You weren’t calling the cops to check in on them? You weren’t hiding so you wouldn’t be with the rest of us when they came on board? Explain that to me, Jack.”

Jack bites his lip and looks away and Geoff scoffs out a laugh.

“But sure,” he says. “You wanna investigate together? You tell me who did this then.”

For a moment Jack seems so upset that he looks half about to storm off and give up on the whole idea. Then he gathers himself, and takes a deep breath.

“Revenge isn’t in Gavin’s nature,” he says. “He likes to ignore his problems. He wouldn’t spend time and effort planning to fuck us all over. If he wanted to hurt us he’d just stay away in England.”

“I’d like to think that’s true. But Gavin’s changed now. We’ve all changed,” Geoff says, and Jack glowers at him.

“Fucking let me finish. Whoever did this would want to keep it a secret. Michael’s being totally open about how much he fucking hates me, so I don’t think it’s him. Which leaves Ryan and Ray. On the flip side, Ray’s being too nice - did you notice he gave Gav his jacket? He’s trying to stay on our good sides. He also doesn’t want to bother investigating or finding out who did it. It’s weird and I dunno what to make of it, so…”

“Why would Ray leave without warning two years ago only to come back and sell us out now?” Geoff demands.

“I don’t know!” Jack throws his hands up. “Those are just my thoughts. We still don’t know _why_ he left. Or maybe you do,” he says, “You’re the one he called, after all.”

Geoff hesitates. “I told you all what he said. That he didn’t think it was working. That he couldn’t do this any more. That he didn’t work well with a team and he was better off alone - that we were better off without him.”

“Why would he do that after we’d all gotten so close?” Jack demands. “It never made sense.”

“Lots of things don’t make sense,” Geoff says tiredly. “Well, Jack, I’ll take your observations into consideration.”

“I didn’t do this, Geoff,” Jack snaps. “I can’t believe you’d think that I’d ever hurt you or any of the others-”

“We’ve all hurt each other,” Geoff says, tersely. “And however we felt about each other two years ago, it’s becoming very fucking obvious that those feelings are gone now.”

Jack stares at him.

“Are they?” he asks quietly.

Geoff stares back for a moment, then gives a slow nod.

“Yes,” he says. His voice shakes a little, fists clenching by his sides. “They are.”

Jack bites his lip. He stares at Geoff - then looks over at Gavin, who’s relocated to the other end of the warehouse. Geoff follows his gaze and his face clouds over.

“You’re still at the top of my suspect list,” he snaps. 

“If you really don’t care about us any more, you’re back on mine,” Jack replies, and Geoff just tilts his chin angrily up, glaring at him before turning away.

-

**5 HOURS TRAPPED**

Gavin walks behind one of the large stacks of crates and peers around. None of the others are in sight - even Ray, up on the rafters, is on the other end of the warehouse. Gavin swallows, and puts his backpack on one of the crates. He checks that the gold is secure before zipping the bag shut and heading for the side door to the warehouse, glancing continually over his shoulder.

He tries the door - it’s locked, but that’s expected. Crouching before the padlock, he pulls his lockpick set out of his pocket and gets to work.

Behind him, Ryan slips out of one of the side rooms, freezing when he notices Gavin. Footsteps silent as a mouse, he walks up behind him before dropping a hand down to his shoulder. Gavin sucks in a terrified gasp, dropping the lockpicks in surprise.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Ryan snaps, yanking him to his feet and slamming him back against the door. “You trying to get out of here?”

“What the actual fuck, Ryan! Warn a bloke! You nearly gave me a bleedin’ heart attack!” Gavin squirms out of his grasp and takes a few steps away. He’s breathing heavily.

Ryan strides towards him, looming menacingly. His head turns to look at the lock kit on the floor, and his fists clench, leather gloves creaking. He’s practically vibrating with anger.

“Fucking hell, Gavin. You know, I wasn’t quite convinced you were the one who did it,” he snaps. “Didn’t think you had it in you. But here you are trying to fucking _escape_ -”

“What? No!” Gavin holds his hands up. “I didn’t sell us out, Ryan.”

“Right. You’re just trying to sneak out because you’re _innocent_ -”

“Because I don’t want to spend another fucking second with you lot,” Gavin snaps. “You’re being an asshole and Michael’s being an asshole and Geoff…” he trails off, then shakes himself. “Don’t go about trying to blame me when I still reckon you’re the only one cold-blooded enough to not give a rat’s arse about killing all the rest of us-”

“Oh, so that’s how it is!” Ryan laughs mockingly as he throws his hands up as well. “Blame Ryan, Ryan’s a killer, of course Ryan would want all the rest of you dead! You can fuck right off, Gavin. You just love playing the victim, don’t you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Poor, sweet, precious Gavin, always the one getting hurt. You don’t lift a finger to fix anything so you can’t get blamed when things go to shit - well guess what, you and Geoff are the ones who fucked this all up two years ago, so as much as the two of you want to play _innocent_ now - I reckon you’re the ones who probably fucked this as well,” Ryan growls. “And here you are trying to run away from it all just the same way you-”

“Fuck you.” There is raw, desperate anger in Gavin’s tone and his eyes are burning as he marches towards Ryan, fists clenched. “Fuck you, _fuck you-_ stop blaming me! Stop fucking putting this _all on me_ \- this wasn’t just _my_ fault! What about Ray? You haven’t said a damn thing about that! Why don’t you blame him then, hm? _He’s_ the one who _left_!”

Ryan swallows hard, seeming taken aback by Gavin’s outburst - but he doesn’t back down.

“Ray’s different,” he says coldly. “You know what happened. Back then - he helped me. He saved my life. I don’t like that he left - I don’t deny that was the start of the trouble - but I still don’t know _why_ , so how can I blame him? But you - I know why _you_ ran off. Because you’re a fucking _coward_ -”

“Oh, I get it now,” Gavin sneers. “It’s a pride thing, isn’t it. It’s easy for you to blame Geoff and I because we were there when things really fell apart. But Ray - Ray was gone before you broke down. He didn’t see what happened. He didn’t see how much this all affected you. You keep acting like you don’t care about this all now but you _did_ care Ryan, you cared a hell of a lot and it didn’t matter. We still all left anyway so now, now the fact that you tried so hard to stop us is _embarrassing_. You think we humiliated you and Ray’s the only one who wasn’t there to see it so he’s the only one who-”

“Say another damn word, I dare you,” Ryan says coldly, and Gavin lets out a near-hysterical laugh and spreads his arms out mockingly.

“What’ll you do? Kill me? Finish the job the police couldn’t? I mean it, Ryan, I really do think it was you. You’re so full of hate towards all of us now and you’re not - you’re not the same person I knew. Everyone else here, they’ve changed, but underneath they’re the same. But not you - not _you_ \- no matter how angry you were before, how closed off, you never would have dreamed of hurting the rest of us. But now… now you’re deliberately taking jabs at Geoff and I.” He rubs his wrist again, almost subconsciously. “Now you don’t give a fuck how much you upset or hurt us. Now you _want_ to-”

“If I was trying to hurt you, trust me, you’d fucking know it,” Ryan snarls. “You’re blaming me to divert attention from yourself but you’re the one who was fucking picking the lock on the door just then-”

“Who’s diverting now?” Gavin snaps. He gets up in Ryan’s space and Ryan steps towards him as well, both of them glaring at each other. “It’s true, isn’t it? You know it’s true, you know you’re not the same-”

This close he can see Ryan’s eyes behind the mask. Narrowed and surrounded by smudged black paint and closed off, blank, unfamiliar. And there’s pain in Gavin’s voice, because he can focus on Ryan _now_ , but it’s only in comparison to Ryan _then_ \- sweet, funny, charming Ryan, who’d offset every act of violence with a startlingly dorky “Yikes!” or a mumbled, fumbled word pronounced wrong-

Ryan who for all his reputation had never once laid a hand on any of them, or said a genuine unkind word - Ryan who had been one of the easiest to talk to, the most reassuring-

Ryan who had been fiercely protective of all the rest of them, who’d been so easy to trust as soon as they wore his initial barriers down - so easy to _love_ -

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Gavin,” Ryan says - he’s trying to sound tough, but it shakes a little, and Gavin bites his lip and reaches out.

“Prove it then,” he says desperately, “Fucking prove it, take that stupid mask off-”

“ _No_ -”

“Just let me _see_ , Ryan, let me look at you properly and I’ll know that you didn’t do it, that it’s still _you_ under there and-”

His fingers close around the bottom of the rubber and for a moment it almost seems as though Ryan’s going to let him take it off. But then the other man rears back, jerking his head out of Gavin’s reach - and, when Gavin goes for it again, Ryan puts a hand to his chest and roughly pushes him backwards.

“I said not to fucking touch it,” Ryan snaps - but Gavin, angry now, lunges forward and shoves Ryan right back.

Ryan reacts almost instinctively, grabbing Gavin’s arm and slamming him hard against the wall again. Gavin cries out, a little winded, before bringing a leg up and kicking Ryan in the abdomen. Ryan stumbles back, doubling over with a wheezing groan, and Gavin launches himself at him again with a wild yell, beating at his chest and shoulders. 

Ryan grunts a few times, some of the blows striking true even if he manages to block a couple. It takes him a moment to recover himself before he catches Gavin’s arm, twisting it up roughly behind his back - Gavin shouts out in pain and Ryan wraps his other arm around him, starting to yank him down to the floor only to let go in surprise when Gavin twists his head around and _bites_ him, managing to get at his wrist between the leather of his glove and the sleeve of his jacket.

“Not fair,” he starts to say, but can’t get any more words out before Gavin’s boot catches him in the chest again, making him stumble. He grabs Gavin’s leg before he can pull it back and sends him slamming into the ground, Ryan dropping down as well seconds later. 

He’s breathing heavily now - Gavin winded as well - but Ryan lunges forward and gets up over Gavin even as he starts scrambling backwards, seizing him by the front of the shirt. Gavin gets a hand up and pushes back at Ryan’s face, fingers digging at his mask and managing to hook into one of the eye holes. He tugs at it but can’t get at the right angle to rip it off before Ryan puts a knee on his stomach and digs it in, pressing his weight down hard. Gavin howls and lets go of Ryan’s mask in favour of punching him across the face, twice - they’re glancing blows but they still make Ryan’s head snap sideways, the mask knocked askew. His lip splits against his teeth and a bead of blood rolls down his chin under the mask.

Gavin takes advantage of his distraction to roll sideways, out from under Ryan’s weight. He starts to scramble away but Ryan moves to pin him down again - they tussle and in the commotion Gavin gets hold of one of Ryan’s fingers, snapping it back. The other man roars in pain and, when Gavin starts to scramble free, Ryan seizes him by the hair and slams him back down. They’re close to the wall and Gavin’s head cracks against it with an awful thump - he cries out and Ryan freezes for a moment, seeming startled by his own actions.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Geoff’s voice rings out. 

Running footsteps make Ryan turn - Gavin, sitting up and blinking dazedly, looks over Ryan’s shoulder as well to see Geoff, Jack and Michael running towards them, drawn by the commotion.

Ryan turns back to Gavin. They’re both breathing raggedly now, glowering at each other. Ryan’s lip’s gotten worse, blood steadily dripping from the bottom of his mask - but Gavin’s hair is matted bloody now too and his eyes are red and teary from the shock of hitting his head. Both of them still shaking, pumped up with adrenaline - when Gavin starts to shove Ryan away and stagger to his feet the other man grabs his wrists to stop him hitting him again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you two!” Geoff rushes forward and gets between them. That action seems to rile them both up again; they struggle to get past him and Michael and Jack move in to seize Ryan’s arms, hauling him back. It only takes Geoff to pin Gavin’s arms at his sides and drag him back a few paces.

“Fucking let go of me,” Ryan snaps, struggling - Jack yanks him roughly back, one hand gripping the back of his collar, the other wrapped firmly around his wrist.

“Time out, Ryan,” he hisses. “Not if you’re gonna go at him again-”

“I’m not,” Ryan insists. “Let go. I’m done with him.”

Gavin’s struggles have ceased as well and he’s hanging off Geoff’s side now, glowering at Ryan, listing a bit on his feet. Geoff wraps an arm around his waist, more to steady him than hold him back, and looks between them.

“The hell was that all about?” he demands, looking rattled.

Ryan jerks his arm free from Michael, who lets him go, then shakes off Jack as well.

“Don’t you all give me that fucking look,” he says. Even if he would usually look intimidating with his chest heaving and unspent energy coiled up in every movement, it’s a little nullified by the fact that his voice is shaking horribly. “Before you get started thinking I was beating up your darling Gavin, he was trying to pick the lock to escape. And he hit me first-”

“You pushed me!” Gavin cries, and Ryan turns to Geoff almost childishly.

“He tried to take my mask off!”

“You were trying to get out of here?” Geoff demands - his gaze flies to the lock picks on the floor and he stiffens before turning to Gavin again, who shrinks back.

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because I did it.”

Geoff lets go of him and Gavin sinks back against the wall. His hand goes up to touch his head and he flinches, fingers coming away sticky with blood.

“Ow,” he says, pitifully. “That really hurt.”

Ryan’s gingerly holding his side as well and when Jack starts to put a hand on his arm, he shakes him off. Michael has his arms folded, looking between the two of them - but his eyes are very wide, and there’s something uncertain in his face, like he can’t quite believe that two of them actually came to physical blows.

Geoff doesn’t seem to know who to believe. He glances at Gavin, who stares back wide-eyed, before looking back at Ryan suspiciously. Ryan lets out an angry breath. 

“He was trying,” he repeats, “To get out of here. I didn’t just randomly attack him. He was trying to escape and I’m positive he did it and he fucking started pushing and hitting me too-”

“Neither of you can do that,” Jack interrupts. “It’s not… it’s not right.”

Ryan rounds on him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands, harshly. “Like you didn’t stab and shoot half a dozen guards back on that cargo ship. Like we don’t hit people all the time.”

“But not like _this_ ,” Jack gestures between them, “I saw you _both_ going at each other - you can’t do that, you can’t hit each other, not when we’re-”

“We’re _what_ , Jack?” It’s Michael who cuts in now, voice very tight. “They can’t hit each other because they’re what? _Together_?”

A tense silence falls. Jack looks away.

“They’re not together,” Michael says. “ _We’re_ not together. We never were.”

“We almost were,” Jack replies slowly.

“But we weren’t and we’re not, so fucking let go of it,” Michael snaps.

“Yes, Jack, let go of it,” Gavin agrees. “‘cause Ryan sure as hell already has.”

Ryan starts forward angrily, fists clenching - Geoff approaches him, hands raised, Jack moving forward in alarm as well - but Ryan just shoots Gavin one last filthy look before turning on his heel and storming off.

Gavin starts to step after him, mouth opening to call something out, but Michael moves swiftly forward and grabs his arm.

“Say anything else to him, boi, and he might actually kill you. Come on, time to cool down.”

There’s something strange in his voice. Not quite concerned, but uncertain, like he doesn’t know what he thinks of all this. Gavin pauses, swaying again, hand going up to press against the wound on his head.

“Michael,” Geoff says quietly, and glances between Gavin and Ryan. Michael seems to understand his unspoken request and after a second he gives a small nod and tugs at Gavin’s arm, steering him away from Ryan towards the opposite end of the warehouse. 

Geoff watches them go before covering his face with his hands and letting out a groan. He grips at his hair, tugging so hard it must hurt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathes.

He looks up and freezes. Jack is bent over, about to pick up Gavin’s abandoned lock pick set, and Geoff darts in and snatches it up before he can. Jack glances at him, startled, and Geoff just frowns at him as he puts the lock picks away in his own pocket.

-

Ray’s eyes are wide as he climbs down from the rafters, jumping from the last crate to land nimbly on the floor. From up there he could see everything - could hear everything too, sound carrying in the empty warehouse. Ryan and Gavin going at each other so viciously. Everyone storming off their separate ways. 

Ryan marches past him now. He’s limping a bit, one arm hugging his side - the other with its fist clenched so tightly that Ray can see his muscles tense and shaking. His breathing so loud and ragged that Ray can hear it from here.

Ryan doesn’t even turn when he walks past, so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice Ray. He heads off for another of the side rooms and Ray bites his lip, glancing after him.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters - he rubs nervously at his arm and looks around. No sign of Geoff and the others. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes deep breaths and then, clenching his jaw, steels himself and heads off after Ryan. 

-

Geoff sits upon one of the stacks of crates, chin resting in his hand, looking out over the gloomy warehouse. Ryan vanishing into a room on one side - he sees Ray hurrying after him, and sits up a little straighter, surprised - before turning to look over at Michael and Gavin, who have gone to sit on the other end of the building. He sighs, turning between them before reaching up and rubbing a hand over his face. Up this high it seems like he is atop some shabby throne. Still their leader, even now, but barely holding things together and now the one who needs to appoint blame. A king of shreds and patches.

Another unhappy groan. Then he clambers down and starts after Michael and Gavin, only to pause at a hand on his arm.

“Geoff,” Jack says. “Leave them be.”

“Will you stop fucking lurking around,” Geoff snaps, shaking him off. “I need to go find out what the hell happened back there. They were literally punching and kicking each other, Jack, that’s not-”

“Hey. Michael’s with Gav. Ray’s with Ryan. Give them a bit of space. I think all of them need to work things out themselves before you go and start interrogating them.”

Geoff clenches his jaw tightly, but after a moment his shoulders relax and he turns to sit back down. Jack hesitates before sitting next to him. Geoff doesn’t turn to look at him, doesn’t even bother to glare. Just let his shoulders slump forward, seeming suddenly exhausted.

“They still want me to mediate,” he says, and huffs out a tired laugh. “They hate me but they still look to me like I’m in charge. Like frickin’ children blaming each other, trying to dob each other in on me.”

“You think Gavin really was trying to cut and run on us?” Jack asks quietly. “He did have the gold in his bag.”

“I don’t fucking know.” Geoff runs his hands through his hair. “I thought I knew him better than that. Ryan sure as hell thinks he did it. That’s a fucking laugh, isn’t it, Ryan turning on Gavin? Never thought we’d see the day.”

“None of us ever expected this could happen.”

“Before all this? No. But after the big break up…” Geoff shakes his head. “I guess it was always possible someone would get angry and come after us.”

“No, Geoff,” Jack says - “We never thought someone would take it this far.”

“Maybe we fucking should have,” Geoff snaps. “I planned this whole job like I could still be in charge. Like I could still hold everyone together. And I almost thought we could do it! But no one wants to try, Jack. They’ve all given up on it.”

Jack bites his lip, looking away, and Geoff glances over at him and gives a mighty snort.

“Oh, except for you,” he says, and narrows his eyes. He still looks suspicious, but after a moment he just sighs and turns away. 

“I’ve lost everyone,” he says miserably. “Should’ve fucking checked up on everyone’s backgrounds instead of assuming that after two damn years we’d all be fine to come back in. Ryan blames Gavin but it was me, it was all me. Now _and_ then, this entire fucking thing has always been my fault.”

“Geoff…” Jack begins, but Geoff swats at him miserably, voice thick and upset now, not bothering to hide it.

“Don’t try to deny it. Two years ago, the heist - I didn’t check the fucking radios even though they’d been acting up. I assumed they’d be fine. And then when things got chaotic and the bombs went off too soon I told Ryan to go back and get the other escape vehicle and he got fucking shot-”

“You couldn’t have known the police would be there,” Jack begins, but Geoff shakes his head.

“I could’ve, if I hadn’t got cheap with the radios and assumed they’d work. You know what the most important thing in a heist is, Jack. Fucking _communication_. Without it, just… chaos.” He motions with his hands like an explosion and sighs. “And I fucking _froze_ , Jack. I was meant to step up and take command and I just - froze.”

Jack bites his lip. He half reaches for Geoff’s shoulder, then seems to think better of it and folds his hands in his lap instead.

“Ryan was hurt,” he says gently. “You were scared about that - we were all scared.”

“It’s my job to be the one in control, no matter how fucking scared I am.”

Jack looks away, unable to deny it. After a second he sighs.

“It’s not all on you,” he admits. “After it all happened - after we got back to base - I’m the one who started yelling, who started blaming people. I was scared too - terrified - but I let it come out as anger and I think that massive fight we all had about it was what scared Ray off. That was on me.”

“Didn’t exactly help by going off and drowning my sorrows, did I,” Geoff mutters, and Jack snorts.

“Well Michael yelled too, and Gavin refused to get involved, and let me tell you, that didn’t help either.”

“Guess we all fucked up then,” Geoff says. “Guess we’re all to blame. But this here, now - this was just one person. At least I hope it was just one person, God, I couldn’t deal with multiple people betraying us.”

Jack is looking at him quietly, face blank, and Geoff glances in the direction Ryan went off again.

“You know how close Ryan and Gavin were before,” he says. “But now they hate each other because they think the other sold us out. Whoever did this has fucked us all up because there’s no chance we can get back together even if we do get out of here. Not after this. Not after we’ve all suspected each other.”

“You really think that?” Jack asks, softly.

“They fucking beat each other up, Jack,” Geoff snaps. “You think they’re gonna fall for one another again after that?” He pauses, thinking about it, then snorts. “I dunno. I guess maybe you need to get things out sometimes. Might have done them some good. But I can’t tell anymore.”

He shifts on the crate and pauses, grimacing, as he sits on something in his pocket. He pulls it out and realises it’s Gavin’s lock picks - he glances at Jack then, suspicion clouding his face again, his previous tiredness and vulnerability being forced away as he shoves them back in his pocket.

“I can’t forget that I can’t trust any of you, not now,” he says darkly. “We really are all on our own here.”

Jack looks hurt, but he doesn’t bother to protest his innocence again - just stares sadly at Geoff, who looks away after a moment and wraps his arms around himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> devilheaded on tumblr drew [this amazing fanart for chapter one](http://devilheaded.tumblr.com/post/130381507401/some-doodles-for-whalehuntingboyfriends-recent) and [this one for chapter two](http://devilheaded.tumblr.com/post/130907190876/some-more-doodles-for-whalehuntingboyfriends-fic). Thank you so much, they are incredible!! <3

**6 HOURS TRAPPED**

Ray stands in the doorway of the side room, watching Ryan silently. The other man has taken his jacket off and is pulling his shirt up, gingerly poking at his ribs and wincing now and then. Ray clears his throat as he finally enters the room and Ryan whips around, hand going to his gun.

“Uh, hi,” Ray says, a bit awkwardly.

Ryan’s hand falls away from his weapon, but he’s gone very stiff.

“What do you want, Ray?” he demands.

“Are you okay?” Ray asks, creeping forward.

Ryan just stares at him, mask blank, and doesn’t respond. When Ray moves towards him his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t step back, even when Ray reaches out a hand, pointing at his chest - not quite touching him but fingers hovering just over the skin. It’s mottled dark with bruises, a nasty red spiderweb-impact already turning bluish black in the centre.

“Your ribs,” Ray says softly, and Ryan tilts his head.

“Got shot by the cops,” he says flatly. “Lucky I had my vest on. Gavin kicking them didn’t help. But I’ve had worse.”

He lets his shirt drop and Ray’s eyes flicker to the blood spotting the collar and dripping out from under his mask. This close he can smell it.

“You’re bleeding,” he says.

“Little bitch punched me in the mouth as well,” Ryan says, reaching up and wiping at it - hand going under his mask, not taking it off. “Split my lip.”

“Let me see."

Ray reaches out but Ryan freezes and turns away, and Ray drops his hand immediately, not pushing it.

“Okay then,” he says instead. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Ryan tilts his head again and Ray stares back at him. His teeth are worrying nervously at his bottom lip but he holds eye contact determinedly, and after a moment Ryan sighs.

“Nothing’s broken,” he says. “Just bruised. The body armour helped a lot but you know what getting shot with a vest on is like. The impact’s a bitch.”

“Tell me about it,” Ray mutters, and then hesitates. “I… I saw what happened. Your fight with Gavin.”

Ryan turns away and throws his hands up.

“He did it, Ray. He fucking sold us out. He was trying to leave - why would he unless he was guilty? I know you don’t want to believe it, but it’s _true_.”

Ray bites his lip. “Don’t we all want to get out of here?”

“He attacked me.”

“You hit him too. I saw him before, he was bleeding,” Ray points out, and Ryan turns back around, shoulders hunching in now almost guiltily.

“Gavin’s got a thick skull,” he says harshly. “He’ll be fine.” 

He winces again, leaning back against the wall, and Ray moves in, carefully lifting his shirt again and inspecting his ribs. Pressing gently, checking for any breaks - Ryan lets him, but he’s so tense now he’s shaking and Ray looks up at him, eyes wide and concerned.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, and Ryan tilts his head back against the wall and laughs a bit hysterically.

“God, Ray. How can you come back after two fucking years and just _ask_ that?”

“I know it’s a silly question,” Ray replies sheepishly. “You’re not okay. I’m not. None of us are. Especially since someone betrayed us.”

Ryan stiffens at that and starts to push him away, but Ray clings to his shirt, almost pleading now. Something seems to break in him, his voice cracking a little as he blurts out, “Please, Ryan. I can’t…”

Ryan pauses and Ray continues, the words tearing wretchedly out of him.

“I hurt everyone here,” he cries, “And I know I hurt you too but I can’t _do this_ , I know you all hate me, I know, and I fucking deserve it, but please, I need just one person - just _you_ \- I just need _someone_ to not shut me out here-”

Ryan freezes and Ray lets go of his shirt, backing off - face flushed and eyes red now - but Ryan grabs at his wrist before he can get too far.

“Why did you go?” he chokes out. “Why did you leave? I don’t understand.”

Ray wraps his arms around himself and shakes his head. His voice is shaking so badly now he can barely get the words out.

“I was so fucking scared - you were hurt and-”

“I was hurt but you saved me.” There’s a plea in Ryan’s voice now too. “You _saved_ me and then you just - you just _left_ and I never _understood-_ ”

“You nearly died, Ryan!” Ray cries. “You nearly fucking _died_ and I was - I was right there and it was all on _me_ and I - I had your fucking blood all over my hands-” He lifts them and they’re shaking so hard he can barely clasp them together, rubbing and wringing them like he’s still trying to clean them off - “I didn’t know what to do. I’d never been in that position before - I worked alone for so long, I never had to worry about anyone else. I’m normally the sniper, I’m always far away from it all, but then… then I was up close and you were bleeding and I - I was so fucking terrified. I cared too much. I realised then that everything had changed and I couldn’t lose you. _Any_ of you.”

His voice breaks on the last word and he sinks to his knees - Ryan’s staring down at him, frozen, transfixed. Ray’s arms are wrapped around himself now like they’re the only thing holding him together. For a moment he sits there, gathering himself, gulping heavy, ragged breaths. After a moment Ryan crouches down too, but doesn’t touch or approach. The silence is filled with both their loud breathing until Ray gets control of himself and falls quiet again.

Finally he swallows and looks up at Ryan, eyes red rimmed and swollen.

“I couldn’t cope with it,” he admits, so softly Ryan can barely hear it. “It’s easy to run. It’s easy to be scared and let that take over. But it wasn’t the right thing to do. I hurt you all by leaving like that and I’m _sorry_ , okay? I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ryan just stares at him. Then after a moment he reaches up slowly, carefully - hesitates for a second before pulling his mask off in one swift jerk. Ray’s breath catches.

Ryan looks a mess. His lip is swollen and dried blood is caked in the corner of his mouth and down his chin. His face paint has been smudged to all hell, some of it smeared off when he took off the mask, the pattern completely gone by now. But worse than that - he looks totally broken. His eyes red rimmed and sunken, surrounded by dark circles like he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s got a beard that he never had before, his hair so long and unkempt now that it’s pulled back in a low ponytail.

It was easy, when he had the mask on, to see him as the impassive  Vagabond. But the second that’s stripped away - he looks _wrecked_ , and so upset, and it’s very fucking obvious that this is affecting him as much as the rest of them.

“Things got so fucked,” he croaks out - and now that his expressions are visible it comes out not cold and hard but _miserable_ \- “After you left.”

“I’m sorry,” Ray says again, but Ryan shakes his head.

“That part’s not your fault. You were already gone by then. But it wasn’t the same without you and we… we never knew _why_ you left but the others… the others all left too. I tried not to let them, God, I tried so fucking hard but they just…” He shakes his head, fists clenching.

“I was the same as you,” he tells Ray then. “I was alone for so long. My reputation kept people away. But I didn’t care for a long time; I’d seen enough terrible people and backstabbers to know alone is better. Alone is _safer_. But then I joined the crew and got… got so close to all of you… and that one time, the one time I let my guard down and trusted you all…”

He shakes his head, throwing his hands up again, and Ray bites his lip.

“I thought you’d find it the hardest to forgive me,” he begins, but Ryan snorts.

“Maybe, but… it’s easier with you. You left first so you didn't see how absolutely fucking pathetic I got.”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“Oh, I was.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “It’s easier, now, to be cold. Not to let the others have the satisfaction of seeing just how fucking much they could affect me. It’s easier to - to _hurt_ them and say I don’t care.”

Ray is staring at him now. When he speaks it’s hesitant.

“Don’t you?” he asks softly, and Ryan stiffens. For a moment he sneers, face pulling into something taut and mocking - but Ray just continues to look at him and after a moment it breaks and he turns his face away.

“It didn’t feel good hurting Gavin,” he admits. “Even if I hate how he ran away.” His fists clench, his voice choking up again now. “It never feels good hurting any of them, being like this… it makes me sick. I’ve done a lot of fucking things I regret but most of them, the worst of them, were all in the last two years. And a lot of them in the last few days.”

He’s almost rambling now and Ray frowns a bit - but now that Ryan’s got his mask off Ray can see the upset rising up on his face again and he tentatively shuffles in and presses Ryan’s arm. Ryan leans into his touch a bit too eagerly and before they know it they’re both on their knees and hugging, a sudden fierce embrace, clinging to each other like a lifeline.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Ray chokes out, squeezing Ryan tightly. The other man doesn’t reply but presses his face closer into Ray’s shoulder, both of them shaking hard. 

-

They’re at the far end of the warehouse when Gavin abruptly sits down on the ground, so suddenly that his arm slips free from Michael’s grasp. The other man pauses, looking down at him with raised eyebrows.

“Stop pulling me,” Gavin says, shifting to lean against a nearby crate.

Michael glances across the room. Ryan and Ray are nowhere in sight and Jack and Geoff are all the way on the other end of the building. They’re far enough. He crouches next to Gavin and tuts.

“So. You try to pick the lock to escape and when Ryan catches you, you attack him? Not looking good for you, Gavvy boi.”

“Shut up,” Gavin snaps. “I didn’t do this.”

His voice is choked and Michael tilts his head, leaning in. His sneer falters a little when he realises Gavin’s face is flushed and his eyes are red and bloodshot.

“What?” he demands, but his voice is a touch uncertain. “You gonna fucking cry about it?”

“Shut up,” Gavin repeats, and reaches up and covers his face with his hands, his shoulders hunched up defensively. His voice is shaking and Michael’s frown deepens. “My head hurts so much.”

“What happened?”

“Ryan made me knock it on the wall.” His voice is muffled behind his hands but there’s something hysterically upset in it. “I’m not fucking crying. My head hurts. I just feel really sick.”

Michael bites his lip. He hesitates, then shifts closer, reaching up to tug at Gavin’s wrist.

“Let me see. Better make sure you’re not about to collapse and die on us, right?”

Gavin doesn’t reply, but he lets Michael pull his hands away and tilt his head, flinching a little when Michael’s fingers prod at the wound. He’s limp, doll-like as Michael grips his chin and turns his face this way and that, checking his eyes. They’re not unfocused and his pupils look fine. Michael lets him go and settles back against the crate next to him with a sigh.

“You’re fine. I think it’s just a bump.” He raises his eyebrows as Gavin turns his head away and pulls his knees up to his chest. “You shouldn’t pick fights with people bigger than you, idiot.”

“Fuck off.”

“What? You gonna fight me next?”

“I held my own,” Gavin replies. And then adds, petulantly, “He pushed me first and he hurt my arm before.”

“Fair enough.” Michael hums a bit. Silence falls between them. Gavin’s breathing calms a little and he reaches up and starts poking and prodding at his head, picking the dried blood out of his hair. Michael watches him, lips pressed tightly together, something funny and almost pained in his expression.

“Did it feel good?” he asks after a moment - Gavin stiffens at the question, but Michael pushes on, a morbid curiosity in his tone. “You hate how he is now, right? So cold and distant? You hate what he’s become and that he hurt you back at the house. So did it feel good to fight back, to hurt him too, to get revenge?”

Gavin has gone very still, and so silent that when he swallows Michael hears it as well as seeing his throat move. Then he shakes his head.

“It didn’t feel good at all,” he admits. “It felt bad at the time and even worse now. I… I had this mad idea,” he adds, almost a whisper, “That it was someone else under the mask just pretending to be him. And if he’d only take it off then I’d see who it was and I’d know it wasn’t Ryan who hurt me, who was being so mean - that it wasn’t any of _us_ who was the traitor but someone else masquerading as the Vagabond.”

Michael stares at him, and Gavin glances up at him and huffs a little laugh.

“Stupid, isn’t it? I got close enough that I saw his eyes under there and it was him. It was definitely him.” He clenches one fist and punches weakly at the floor. “It’s bloody cowardly, isn’t it, that I still don’t want to believe it was one of us who did it?”

Michael bites his lip and doesn’t answer, and after a second Gavin sighs, shoulders slumping.

“Well you know what? If I’m a coward, then I’m a coward, and I can’t change it because I… I’m _scared_ , Michael. I’m scared of so many fucking things and Ryan’s _right_ , I just run away from them because I can’t deal with it.”

“That hurts the rest of us,” Michael says tightly. “We used to joke about how when you want to break up with someone you just cut off all contact but it… it wasn’t funny anymore, when you did go off back to England-”

“I know,” Gavin pleads, “Don’t you think I _see_ that now. But why do you think I did it? Why do you think I ran away?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Michael snaps, annoyed now. “But you shouldn’t have. We… we could have _fixed_ things, Gavin, before they got to this point. You and Geoff didn’t even fucking try.”

“I didn’t see it like that,” Gavin replies. “And back then it was different. You know how we were, Michael. We were so close to _being_ something. And when that started to fall apart I couldn’t take it, I… I had to get away. I didn’t want to see it go wrong any more. It would’ve been bad enough if it was just one person but _all_ of us were so close and it was all so fragile and I was fucking terrified, even when things were going well, of how it might work with six of us.”

Michael bites his lip and Gavin huffs out a laugh.

“I was scared. I wanted it to work out so badly that when things started going wrong of course I ignored it. I thought maybe things would just sort themselves out. But it was only because I cared so much that I didn’t want to admit it wasn’t working.” His voice is thick and choked now and Michael can only sit frozen, watching him - Gavin doesn’t cry, they both know that, but right now he’s as close to it as Michael’s ever seen him.

“It was real,” Gavin says, and lets out another, hysterical sort of laugh. His fists are clenched now, shaking as hard as his voice - “It was real and I _loved_ you all and you know how fucking _terrified_ I am of admitting that.”

He draws a shuddering breath, Michael still as a statue beside him, watching him with wide eyes and a strained look on his face.

“But I may as well fucking admit it now,” Gavin cries. “These last two years have sucked _ass_ , Michael. All I had was Dan, and England was shit and it just… I had no one, none of you there, I was so far away. I thought distance would help but it didn’t, I just… _missed_ you all. I missed you more than I could stand. And then I fucking get back here and you and Ryan keep telling me it’s all my fault and I guess… I guess it is, I guess I can see that, so how the fuck do you think that makes me feel? To realise that if I hadn’t been such a coward we might not be in this situation at all? Of course I want to get out of here! Of course I don’t want to be around you all! I don’t… I don’t need to be surrounded by more people blaming me when I already blame _myself_ -”

He breaks off with a choked noise, gripping at his hair and turning his face away. He’s shaking and rocking himself and Michael looks stricken now, his own eyes full of tears that he blinks furiously away.

“Gavin…” he begins, but trails off, unable to come up with words.

Gavin pulls at his hair again and then brings his knees up further, burying his face in his arms.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he says, and Michael flinches at the words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it didn’t feel good to hurt Ryan. It felt fucking awful, I… I loved him so much and now he _hates_ me, and I hate what he’s turned into as well and we just all _hurt_ each other. We just all fucking hurt each other and that’s not how it should be. That’s not how I _want_ it to be and it… it didn’t make me feel a damn bit better-”

His voice cracks and he falls silent, curling in on himself further. Michael is hugging himself too now, arms wrapped around his stomach like every word from Gavin’s mouth is another stab in the gut. A terrible silence falls between them, Michael watching Gavin shake and rock beside him, his own face crumpling with every passing second. Finally he reaches out, tentatively, and touches Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin shivers but doesn’t pull away. He lets out another low choking noise and then says, in a very small voice, “My head hurts so much.”

Michael looks pained. He grips Gavin’s shoulder properly, squeezing gently - then lets out a muffled noise of surprise as the next thing he knows Gavin’s turning towards him and huddling into his chest. Michael goes stiff but then, after a second, reaches up and hugs him back. Gavin barely seems aware of what he’s doing, clinging desperately to Michael and hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, voice muffled, “I ruined everything, I fucked it all up, and Ray’s wrong, I wasn’t fine on my own. I’m nothing without the rest of you-”

Michael’s hand comes up, gently cupping the back of his head, holding him close. His own eyes squeeze shut as he struggles to control his own breathing, to calm himself down.

“I think all of us are, Gav,” he murmurs, and Gavin sniffs and falls silent, curling closer into Michael, who hesitantly lets him.

-

Geoff ventures across the warehouse. He freezes when he notices Gavin and Michael sitting, huddled together. It takes him a moment to register that they’re _hugging_ , and then his mouth drops open - his brow furrows - something almost hurt passes across his face as he watches Michael’s hand stroke over Gavin’ back. Then his lips press tightly together and he strides back into the centre of the warehouse, climbing onto the stack of crates.

“Hey, assholes!” he hollers out, voice carrying through the whole building. “Get out here!”

It takes a few moments for everyone to gather. Jack emerges from where he was off alone again - Ryan and Ray from a side room - then Michael and Gavin, looking stiff and awkward as though he startled them out of some reverie. They’re not touching each other now, and move to stand apart - Gavin shuffling his feet and staring at the floor, Michael with his arms folded and face artificially blank.

Geoff glances around at them all. Ryan and Ray stand close, Ryan with his arms crossed as well. Ray looks like he’s been crying. Geoff falters at the sight of him, but quickly gathers himself again.

“The cops are still out there and they’re not fucking going away. I heard choppers before,” he says. “We shouldn’t stay here too long but we’re not fucking going until I know who did this so…”

Gavin glances up at him, eyes wide - Jack stiffens - Ray looks over at Ryan for a moment.

“Whoever did this, this is your one fucking chance to admit it and explain why,” Geoff announces. “I mean it. This is the only fucking time I’ll listen to what you have to say. Come forward of your own accord and maybe you can convince me to show some mercy.”

“Geoff,” Jack begins, softly, but Geoff rounds on him angrily.

“Unless it’s a confession, Pattillo, I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

Jack flinches back and shuts his mouth, and Geoff glares around at all of them - but they’re all staring now with equally blank expressions and after a moment of long, awkward silence, he sighs and throws his hands up.

“Okay. That was your only chance. Gavin, you stay where I can fucking see you.”

“What?” Gavin asks, but Geoff glares at him.

“You tried to break out and you attacked Ryan. Give me your phone, I’m gonna call Dan and ask what you were up to the last two years.”

“It wasn’t me, Geoff,” Gavin says, upset, but Geoff is adamant, holding out his hand expectantly. Gavin glances at Michael, but the other man is already turning away.

They split apart again, leaving Gavin and Geoff there alone. Another tense silence having come over them at the cruel reminder that someone in here is very, very guilty.

-

**7 HOURS TRAPPED**

Ryan and Ray sit behind the stacks of crates. It’s dusty here and full of cobwebs but it’s not dark, light filtering through cracks in the warehouse wall above. Between them they’ve drawn letters in the dust on the floor. _G. J. M. Gv._

“I really don’t think it was Gav,” Ray insists.

“He was trying to escape.”

“Did you see how upset he looked back there?” Ray points out. “I just don’t think it’s in his nature to do something like this.”

“Didn’t think it was in any of our natures,” Ryan grumbles. “I’m not rubbing him off until we’re certain.”

“How can we ever be certain?” Ray points out. 

Ryan just shrugs. They sit in silence for a moment, then he sighs.

“You really don’t suspect me at all?” he asks, and Ray bites his lip.

“No,” he replies quietly. “I know you, Ryan. I know your Vagabond act and I know that’s just what it is. An act. You could never hurt any of us.”

“I hurt Gavin back there, didn’t I?"

“You were both fighting. That’s different. Something like this is planned, calculated - I know it’s not you,” Ray says, and Ryan looks at him for a long moment. Behind the mask his eyes crinkle a little as he smiles.

Suddenly Geoff’s head pops over the wall of boxes nearby, making them both startle.

“What the fuck are you two doing back here?” he demands. “You plotting together?”

“No,” Ryan replies, irritably, and lets out an annoyed grunt when Geoff clambers over to join them. “We’re working out who did this ourselves, since you’re not fucking getting anywhere.”

“Huh,” Geoff says. He reaches out and scrawls _R_ and _Ry_ in the dust as well, and Ray turns to him with a glare.

“Geoff, we were in the middle of something. Go do your own.”

“Might as well join forces,” Geoff says. “You can rub Gavin off for now.”

“Gavin stays,” Ryan snaps, catching Geoff’s wrist when he reaches to wipe Gavin’s letter away.

“I just called Dan,” Geoff says. “You know him, the guy couldn’t spin a convincing lie if he tried. He told me Gavin barely spoke to anyone other than him the entire time they were in England.”

“Dan’s loyal to Gavin,” Ryan points out. “Don’t underestimate him. He’d say anything to keep him out of trouble.”

“Gavin aside,” Geoff says, “Who else?”

Ray bites his lip. “You did say this was all Jack’s idea.”

“Yeah,” Geoff says slowly.

Ryan tilts his head. “He brought all this together. He vanished during the heist. And he’s been acting too friendly since we got here. Being nice to everyone. Acting as though he still thinks we can all get back together. He was pretty damn quick to try and pin blame on Michael and I.”

“That’s true,” Geoff replies, and rubs his chin. “And Michael?”

“I haven’t really spoken to him yet,” Ray points out, and Ryan shakes his head as well.

“He’s acting angry,” Geoff continues. “But I saw him hugging Gavin before.” His fists clench a little, but then he shakes his head. “So no matter how he’s behaving, he still cares about us. Or about one of us, at least.”

“I see,” Ryan says, very tightly.

Geoff reaches across and swipes his own _G_ out of the dust - Ray lets out a shout of protest and immediately draws it back in.

“You can’t just do that!”

“But it wasn’t me,” Geoff points out, and Ryan shoves at him.

“Get out of here. You’re disrupting our investigations.”

Geoff pulls a horrendous face at him before heaving himself up and heading out. Ray can’t help his small chuckle and Ryan glances over at him, then after Geoff again.

-

Michael is sitting on one of the boxes sharpening his knife when Ray saunters up to him, hesitantly. He pauses a few metres away, watching the blade in Michael’s hands, until the other man looks up and raises his eyebrows.

“What?” he demands, and Ray inches closer.

“Can we talk?”

“Why? Got something to say?” Michael lowers his knife and Ray sighs a bit. He moves to jam his hands into his pockets only to realise he hasn’t got any; he gave his hoodie to Gavin. He wraps his arms awkwardly around himself instead and steps closer.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says, and Michael stiffens. Ray quickly continues.

“I know you probably hate me and don’t want to hear it but… I do regret leaving. I didn’t mean to stay away so long. Everything was just shit without you guys and I… I wanted to come back but I was scared. Scared you all hated me, scared I’d just get pushed away again… I didn’t think I could cope with that. But when Geoff called me back in I thought things might be better now, that we’d all come back and try again. But things can’t get better now, can they? Now that someone’s sold us out. I still don’t want to believe it was any of us. But whoever did… they must have had a reason, mustn't they? Maybe they were scared or… I dunno. We do stupid things. I know I did.”

Michael looks down.

“You thought you could just leave us behind,” he says finally, his voice quiet and tight, and Ray shakes his head.

“I was stupid and scared and I’m so fucking sorry, Michael. And I mean that for you most of all. You were the first one I… I got close to, the first one I…”

He trails off, swallowing hard, and Michael looks up and meets his eyes. There’s no anger in his face now. Just something small and scared and sad. Ray bites his lip and looks away.

“Anyway,” he says, almost a whisper. “I just wanted you to know that I do regret it. I regretted it every damn day for the last two years.”

Michael just stares at him silently. He looks pained, almost desperate, but Ray doesn’t give him the chance to reply, turning quickly away and hurrying off.

-

Gavin is right where Geoff left him. His bag and gun are gone and he has his knees pulled up, sitting vulnerable in the centre of the empty room where everyone can see him. After a moment he reaches up and touches his head again.

There’s a noise beside him as Jack emerges from the shadows and starts crossing the room, heading for the back of the warehouse. Gavin turns too quickly to look at him and sways a bit dizzily, hand going to his head before he lies back on the dusty floor and closes his eyes, gathering himself.

When he opens them again he looks up at the ceiling. The rafters forming a network of patterns. Triangular beams supporting the ceiling. A regular pattern - right-angled triangle, then isosceles. Right-angled, isosceles. 

_Triangles_. 

Gavin frowns suddenly. He rubs his head - then sits bolt upright.

“Jack,” he calls out, loudly.

Jack pauses where he was halfway across the room, turning back towards him.

“What?” he asks.

Gavin scrambles to his feet and starts towards him.

“Earlier today,” he says. “I was sitting in the kitchen and I saw you leave the house.”

He’s speaking so loudly that the others have heard too now - Michael coming over from the other side of the stack of crates, Geoff, Ryan and Ray wandering up too, eyes narrowed.

“What?” Jack asks.

Gavin takes another step forward.

“This morning. Just before we left on the heist. You left the house and went outside for a bit. So did you, Ryan,” he adds, glancing over at him. “So where were you two going?”

“Nowhere!” Jack protests - Geoff’s looking at both of them now with narrowed eyes. “Just getting some air before the job!”

“Not taking a private phone call?” Gavin demands, and Jack looks pained.

“Gav, c’mon. We were all alone at some point this morning.”

Gavin raises his hands and turns to Geoff.

“Just presenting some new evidence,” he says, and moves back to where he was sitting. Jack turns towards Geoff, a pleading look on his face, but Geoff is already frowning and turning speculatively away, the others moving apart slowly.

-

Ryan lingers by the side of the room. He reaches up and adjusts his mask, making sure it’s pulled on tight, but his gaze never leaves Gavin. The other man is sitting cross legged in the middle of the room where Geoff told him to stay. As Ryan watches he lifts up his shirt and pokes at the bruise forming on his stomach where Ryan’s knee dug in. Ryan’s hand goes to his own chest, the soreness across his abdomen where Gavin hit and kicked him - then rubs his finger, fortunately not broken.

Gavin looks up then and catches sight of him and they both freeze. It’s Gavin who looks away first, shoulders hunching up stiff and guilty, but Ryan hangs his head too, fists clenching as he slinks away.

-

Geoff pauses as he passes Michael while doing another circuit of the warehouse. The other man is sitting on the crates again, seeming deep in thought. He looks up when Geoff approaches.

“Hey,” Geoff calls out. “Thanks for taking care of Gav before.”

Michael tilts his head and frowns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I had to get in there and split up that fight before someone got seriously hurt,” Geoff replies. “But it was good we were able to separate them, let them cool down - so thanks for taking Gavin off on his own.”

“If I hadn’t, Jack would’ve,” Michael says dismissively, and Geoff nods. He turns and starts to leave, then pauses - hesitates - comes back over.

“I know you were in or around AC most of the last few years,” he says. “We could have seen each other around but we didn’t. You were avoiding me.”

“We were all avoiding each other,” Michael points out. “Gavin crossed the fucking ocean just to get away from us.”

“I know,” Geoff says, and shifts his feet, almost nervous now. “But I… I was worried when I didn’t hear from you in ages. Even Burnie said he hadn’t seen you much.” 

Michael just shrugs, staring up at Geoff impassively.

“Didn’t much want to hang around you when you were fucking drunk half the time,” he says flatly, and Geoff flinches back a bit.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” he says quietly. “I know I let you down.”

“Whatever,” Michael begins, but Geoff shakes his head.

“No, not _whatever_. It matters. You were always there for me but then I fucked up when I should have been trying to keep us together.”

It’s true. Michael’s always been fiercely loyal to the crew - to Geoff - right from the second he joined. Always a step behind him, always there to back him up on heists or jobs. Ramsey’s little shadow and as feared as Ryan in some circles.

And sure, it was Gavin who Geoff lived with, who he was so fond of - who he’d curl up with, cuddle, think about at night. Who he kissed.

But he was terribly close to Michael too. It was Michael he’d casually flirt with while going around planning or pulling jobs. Michael who he’d text in the small hours of the morning when he was across the country in another time zone. Michael who he stayed out late drinking with and who he’d have rambling conversations with - or sometimes they wouldn’t; they’d just sit out on the balcony of Geoff’s penthouse watching the sprawl of the city they owned below them, all tall buildings and bright lights twinkling like stars. Or sneaking glances, watching each other, how they looked under the flush of the city lights.

Michael looks at Geoff now and all that stands out are the dark, tired bags under his eyes. The messy stubble over his jaw and the slump of his shoulders. 

Geoff gives a wry sort of smile.

“I’m trying not to drink so much now,” he comments. “I… I cut down a lot when we started planning for this job.”

“Yeah?” Michael asks, and raises his eyebrows. “How’s that going for you?”

“Not great,” Geoff replies, with a scoff of a laugh. “But I’m trying.” He sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Although this whole sorry business is really making me want a whiskey right now.”

Michael scoffs a bit and Geoff manages a small grin before sighing again.

“Anyway,” he says tiredly. “I don’t trust anyone here, but you did help separate those two before and the last thing we need is outright violence. So thanks for that at least.”

“Whatever, boss man,” Michael replies, but it comes out too worn down and sincere as well. Geoff nods and turns away and Michael bites his lip as he stares after him, fingers clenching against the wood of the crate he’s sitting on, lips twisting unhappily as he finally wrenches his gaze away.

-

**8 HOURS TRAPPED**

Jack leans against the wall, face covered with his hands, like if he can’t see the others they won’t be able to see him.

That’s not how life works.

When he finally drops his hands and ventures out of the corner, it’s to Michael’s glare as he passes by him - Ryan’s suspicious glance, that Black Skull seeming to leer at him from where the other man is perched up on the rafters now - Geoff frowning at him from his throne of crates - even Gavin, sitting on the floor at Geoff’s feet, side-eyeing him warily as he passes by, like there’s already a noose around his neck, some flashing sign ringing out _traitor, traitor_ above his head.

His chest starts to heave, breathing too fast - he forces himself to take deep, slow breaths through his nose as he approaches the other end of the warehouse where Ray is sitting. The other man looks up at his approach and his eyes narrow too, but Jack’s already dropping to his knees beside him.

“Please, Ray,” he begs. “I know what you’re all thinking but I didn’t do this.”

“Jack…” Ray looks pained. He puts down the gun he was cleaning and turns towards him. “I don’t wanna believe that anyone did this. But someone _did_ \- who do you want me to blame?”

Jack remains silent, and Ray sighs.

“Gavin?” he prompts. “Michael? He’s my best fucking friend, man, he wouldn’t do this. Geoff is… I don’t know. He might’ve, but he does seem so angry about this. If he’s trying to pin blame he’s the best fucking actor I’ve ever seen. And it wasn’t Ryan, I know it wasn’t.”

Jack bites his lip, something like hurt crossing his face.

“So you care about me the least,” he says flatly. “It’s easiest for you to decide that I did it.”

“That’s not what I said,” Ray replies immediately, and sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “Look, I don’t think it was you but… I don’t know. I don’t _know_ , Jack, it just doesn’t add up. Tell me why you left the house. Tell me why your comm went off during the operation and you vanished. Tell me where you were fucking going when Gavin called you out just now.”

“Nowhere,” Jack replies, and there are tears in his eyes now, his voice very tight. “I mean it. I just needed space away from all of you.”

Ray just shakes his head slowly. “Jack…”

“You have absolutely no solid evidence,” Jack points out, but Ray bites his lip.

“Ryan thinks you’ve been suspiciously nice,” he says - it sounds so silly out loud, and Jack gapes at him.

“What does that _mean_?”

“That you were too kind to all of us, too eager not to pin blame and to get us back together. It could be a deflection. I dunno.”

Jack is silent for a long moment. He looks down at the ground and blinks as he notices Ray has scrawled letters in the dirty floor again. _G, J, M, Gv, R, Ry_. The last two scrubbed out.

“Suspiciously nice,” he scoffs - and there’s something hard in the way he looks up at Ray now. “If that’s the mark of a traitor then you fit the bill too.”

Ray stiffens, but turns away, not saying any more. Jack sighs, something very tired in it, and backs off alone once more.

-

Ryan is in one of the side rooms again. His jacket and mask off and a bottle of water out, washing the blood and paint from his face. He dries himself off with his jacket but stiffens at a noise behind him, and pulls his mask on before turning.

Michael is leaning in the doorframe, watching him, and Ryan turns around properly.

“What do you want?” he asks.

Michael’s eyes scan over him - the bruises and scrapes on his arms, visible now that he’s just in his undershirt.

“You’re hurt,” he comments, and Ryan stiffens.

“I’ll live,” he replies. 

“Can I see?” Michael asks then, and Ryan tilts his head, but after a moment he lifts his shirt up. Michael’s gaze trails over the bruises and his lips press together tightly, but when Ryan drops the shirt and their eyes meet again there’s something thoughtful in the look on Michael’s face.

“You hurt Gavin,” he says. “I know you didn’t mean to hit him so hard, but if he’d banged his head at a different angle back there we might have another tragedy on our hands.”

Ryan stares silently at him and Michael takes a step forward.

“You turned into something you’re not because you’re hurt and angry,” he says - slowly, contemplative almost, searching carefully for each word. “Is that... acceptable?”

Ryan thinks for a moment, not breaking eye contact.

“No,” he says finally. “It’s not. But whoever did this did exactly the same thing. They're hurt, they’re angry, so they’re biting back. That’s not _acceptable_ either.”

“Yeah,” Michael scoffs. “ _Whoever did this_.”

“Hah,” is all Ryan says. “Think what you want but it wasn’t me.”

Michael stares at him for a moment longer before shrugging and leaning against the wall, more conversational and relaxed now.

“What’ll you do when you find out who it is?” he asks.

Another pause before Ryan replies, flatly, “Kill them.”

It’s not enthusiastic. It doesn’t sound very genuine. But it does slip from his lips easily, and Michael raises his eyebrows.

“You think you could?” he asks. “You really think you could kill one of us? Are you telling me you don’t feel bad as fuck about just knocking Gavin around a little - and he even attacked you first! Or are you maybe just saying what you think I expect you to?”

“We do stupid things when we’re angry,” Ryan replies. “But actions have consequences and we have to face up to them. Like you said - if I’d hurt Gavin worse Geoff would have killed me and I doubt I could blame him. So whoever did this has to face the music for it. But what about you? What will you do?”

Michael pauses, thinking for a long time. Then he sighs.

“I’ll hate whoever did it,” is all he says, and Ryan takes a step towards him.

“You don’t hate us all now then?” he asks, and Michael shrugs, shoulders hunching up a bit now, something almost vulnerable in his face.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

“So you give them your _hatred_ ,” Ryan says. “Then what?”

“Then… I don’t know what I’d do,” Michael says, and lets out a miserable sort of laugh. “I’m angry a lot, you know that. I shout, I rage. But I think… finding out one of you betrayed us… I might act angry but, I think it’d make me sad.”

Ryan turns his head away and for a moment they don’t look at each other, a melancholy silence settling over the dark, dusty room.

“Do you like what you are now?” Michael asks, abruptly. “The Vagabond. It’s a defence mechanism, isn’t it? But after all this - do you think you can come back from it? Or are there… are there angers you can’t come back from?”

Ryan doesn’t look up at him, but his shoulders stiffen. He doesn’t answer and after a moment Michael sighs.

“Gavin couldn’t believe you’d turned like this,” he says. “He thought there was someone else under that mask pretending to be you. That’s why he wanted to take it off so bad.”

Ryan’s shoulders hunch in further - but then he shakes himself, straightening up defensively as he looks up at Michael again.

“That’s the problem,” he snaps. “It _was_ one of us. It might well have been him. He could be lying to you. Spinning a pity tale.”

Michael tilts his head consideringly.

“Either way,” he says, “My point stands. Jack claims he brought us back because he thought we could fix things. But now someone here has fucked us over and won’t even own up to it. Now Geoff’s pointed fingers and you and Gavin fought. So we’ve all done bad things. We’ve all hurt each other. So I ask you again - do you think there are things we can’t come back from?”

Ryan looks very uncomfortable. He reaches up and adjusts his mask again before pulling his jacket back on, zipping it up viciously like he’s sealing his armour. He doesn’t answer Michael’s question, and barely casts him a glance again as he sweeps out of the room. Michael just raises his eyebrows and sighs, reaching up to rub at his temples.

-

Geoff has a piece of paper out on one of the crates in front of him, writing up lists and dot points and times, cross-checking where the others said they were that last day in the house compared to what he and the others saw. Nothing’s really coming up - there were hours where they were apart, off alone in their rooms, when they could have made a discreet phone call to the police without anyone ever noticing.

The only thing that keeps coming up, time and time again, are Jack’s absences. Confirmed by him. Unexplainable.

He starts to crumple up the paper before changing his mind and folding it neatly instead, shoving it into his pocket. Then strides over to where Ryan and Ray are sitting together behind the crates again.

“Getting anywhere?” he demands, and they glance at him warily. 

“Had a talk with Michael just now,” Ryan replies.

“And?”

“He seems less angry now than he was at the beginning of all this, for whatever that’s worth,” Ryan says, and rubs his hands over his face. “How long has it been? Eight hours, now? Fucking wearing down on all of us. If I never see another warehouse again it’ll be too soon.”

“He did help Gavin earlier,” Geoff muses.

“Gavin,” Ryan scoffs, hands falling to his lap again. “He told Michael he thought it was someone else pretending to be me under the mask.”

“Awww,” Geoff says, and Ryan scowls at him.

“He could be lying. Playing the victim. You know how he is.”

“Ry.” Ray touches Ryan’s knee and he turns in surprise. Ray’s staring at him earnestly. “I really don’t think it was Gav.”

“He was trying to break out,” Ryan points out, but falters when Ray squeezes his knee.

Geoff glances between them and frowns.

“You go scope him out, Ray,” he orders. “I doubt he’ll want to see Ryan or I right now. I left him alone back where I was sitting before.”

“You’re both too soft on him,” Ryan grumbles, but Ray rises anyway and heads off, leaving the other two sitting in silence. After a moment, Geoff reaches forward and circles the _J_ on the ground. Ryan stiffens in surprise and Geoff looks up, their eyes meeting.

“Ryan,” Geoff says quietly. “Ray’s gonna throw doubt on everyone we suspect because he doesn’t want to believe that one of us did this. What Dan told me about Gav… he wasn’t doing well in England and I don’t think he could’ve pulled himself together enough to plan this.”

“You think it was Jack,” Ryan says flatly, and Geoff rubs his hands over his face.

“I don’t want to believe it,” he says. “But I can’t ignore the fact that he came up with the idea and has kept disappearing. He was one of the last few left after we all broke up and then he pushed Michael away - maybe because he was already so angry at the rest of us.”

“Jesus,” Ryan whispers - not even angry, something vulnerable about it. A glum silence falls over them.

The oldest three of the crew have always been peculiarly close. The lads often paired away on jobs leaving the three of them to work together, and they played off one another well. It’s Jack who Geoff’s known the longest, the first to join his crew back when they were nothing, just two guys with guns and big ambitions - always the first to back him up, to believe in him. He was one of the first to get Ryan to open up, with his genuine kindness - something rare in their line of business. Sweet Jack, comforting Jack, the one to patch them up after jobs gone wrong, the first to approach someone to ask if they were okay even if they only seemed a little down.

It seems unfathomable that he could betray them. And for all that they’ve been in such an angry, tense stand-off for the last eight hours, not having a definite suspect still made the traitor seem vague, distant. But now that someone specific is in mind - it seems to hit them hard, both of them overtaken by a sudden misery.

None of them were ever just _friends_ , after all, but so close to being something more.

“I’ve known him for so long,” Geoff says then. “And even the last two years - we saw each other, now and then. Not like with the rest of you. I don’t want to believe he did this but I… I’m not seeing any other option.”

Ryan just nods, head turned away. In the wake of his silence Geoff pushes on awkwardly.

“I mean,” he says, “I don’t wanna believe it but… but someone did it, and it’s looking like him, and he can’t explain his absences properly.”

Ryan just nods again.

“But it hurts, doesn’t it,” Geoff blurts out then. “Even after two years apart… when you trust someone and then they…”

“Yeah,” Ryan says quietly, and Geoff stiffens a bit.

“That all you have to say about it?” he demands, and Ryan turns his head angrily towards him.

“That’s all I have to say to _you_ ,” he snaps, and Geoff raises his hands defensively. But after a second Ryan’s shoulders slump a bit.

“It does hurt,” he says softly, and Geoff can only nod. He bites his lip, looking up at Ryan - and for a moment their eyes meet and there’s no anger there, only a shared pain, differences put aside for the time being.

-

Michael is looking through the bombs in his bag. He’s at the back of the warehouse and he takes out one of his leftover explosive charges and stares at it consideringly, then at the wall. 

Footsteps approaching have him turning warily. It’s Jack - dragging his feet, eyes a little downcast - Michael stiffens, stuffing the charge back in his back and turning.

“Here to convince me it wasn’t you?” he calls out, almost mockingly.

Jack looks up at him and his lips twist wryly.

“No,” he calls back, and then swallows hard and adds - nervously - “Here to apologise, actually.”

Michael tenses visibly. 

“Been getting a lot of those lately,” he says, but the flippancy in his tone is forced, and Jack stops a few metres from him.

“We owe you a lot of them,” he admits, and sighs. “But I mean it, Michael-”

“Don’t,” Michael cuts in, almost frantically, and snatches up his bag again, turning to leave. “I don’t need to hear a fucking thing from you-"

“ _Please_ , Michael!” It bursts out so desperately that it stops Michael in his tracks. He turns back slowly and Jack’s got a hand outstretched - all barriers down now; raw pain and pleading in his face. “Just hear me out.”

Michael hesitates, and Jack stumbles forward.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’m so fucking sorry, okay. You’re right, I should never have broken us up - I realised when it kept getting longer and longer and everyone still hadn’t been back in touch with each other that I’d made a terrible mistake.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix things,” Michael says harshly, and Jack bites his lips.

“I know. But for what it's worth, I never imagined it’d all turn out this way. I’ve been kicking myself for the last two years. I just… never thought we could all ever actually _leave_ , not after how close we were. And we were close, Michael. Don’t you remember?”

Michael is quiet, his eyes trained on Jack’s chest. But he’s obviously listening, and after a moment Jack swallows and continues. 

“Remember,” he pleads, “After the first heist we pulled as a complete team - remember the party we had? And Ryan finally took his mask off and we were all shocked by the paint.”

Michael’s lips twitch a bit at the memory. “Gavin asked if he’d ever robbed a museum disguised as an abstract art piece.” 

“And then he told us the gnome story,” Jack says, and even Michael can’t help but chuckle a little.

Encouraged, Jack smiles a bit, pushing on. “And remember how we used to hang out on the beach in summer?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, and gives a little grin. “Swimmy bevs.”

“Gavin used to always try and wrestle us even if he’d get dunked every time,” Jack says fondly. “And half the time Ray refused to swim at all! He’d just play DS and watch us.”

“He just wanted to see everyone shirtless,” Michael mutters, and Jack scoffs. They’re both half-smiling now, lost in the nostalgia of those summer days, the water warm, the city theirs. How they’d laugh and Geoff would get drunk and flirt with everyone, and Gavin would get clingy, and they were blissful and carefree. Back when _everything_ was bright.

After a second they both seem to realise just how far gone those days are, and look away, upset.

“So you see,” Jack says quietly, “I never thought we could go from that to… to this. And even when I planned this, the heist was going so well at first that I thought we might find excuses to keep staying together, if this betrayal hadn’t happened.” He scoffs, then. “But fat chance of that happening now. Maybe it was naive of me. But I… I didn’t think we hated each other. We were hurt, but we didn’t hate.”

Michael doesn’t reply, but he’s not glaring now, and Jack sighs.

“Maybe you can’t forgive me. But I am sorry. I want you to know I’m sorry and that I… I missed you a lot while you were gone.”

Michael looks like he’s about to cry. He won’t meet Jack’s eyes now and the other man half starts to lift his hand before thinking better of it. After a moment of strained silence he steps back and then turns, moving off away. Michael doesn’t follow him. He stands still for a long moment, staring at the floor, and then sniffs and sucks in a deep breath. He turns and looks across the room at Gavin, sitting alone on the floor, before wrapping his arms around himself and going to sit by himself near the wall.

-

**9 HOURS TRAPPED**

The sound of sirens and choppers get louder outside. They all congregate near the door, alarmed - but the sounds fade quieter after a moment, though they don’t vanish completely. Silently, Ryan and Geoff both move to stack more crates in front of the door. Everyone lingers for a moment, then disperses. Still no one comes forward.

-

Ray approaches where Gavin was sitting before, but finds the space empty. He frowns, and circuits the building - finally checks a small room leading from the back of the warehouse and finds Gavin crouched before the locked door. He’s got his gun out and Ray stiffens.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

Gavin looks up, startled. His gun is pointed at the lock but he lowers it now.

“R-Ray,” he cries, and Ray steps forward slowly.

“You’re not breaking out again, are you?”

Gavin glances guiltily at the lock, and Ray frowns a bit.

“Gav. Didn’t Geoff take your gun?”

“I saw where he put it and took it back,” Gavin says, and turns to face him fully, the gun hanging harmlessly by his side. “I just wanted my weapon Ray. I’m not…. I swear I’m not trying to escape because I did it. I just feel really sick and my head hurts and I need to get out, okay, I don’t like it in here.”

“Gav... “ Ray glances at the gun again and Gavin clicks the safety on and shoves it back in his belt.

“Ray,” he says, sounding very pained. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you’d hurt Ryan,” Ray points out, and Gavin swallows, glancing guiltily away.

“I need to keep myself safe,” he whispers. “I had to get my gun back.”

Ray’s face softens a little and he steps forward. 

“What are you scared of?” he asks.

Gavin wraps his arms around his chest.

“Someone here’s a traitor,” he says softly, “And everyone’s gonna turn on each other. We’ve already started. You know what Ryan said to me back at the house? No one’s gonna protect me any more. I need to take care of myself now.”

“Oh my God, Gav,” Ray murmurs, and steps closer again, reaching out to touch the other’s arm gently. “Wasn’t Michael helping you before?”

“Kinda, but… I don’t know. He didn’t really say much and it was awkward after Geoff called us back in and we sort of broke apart. I shouldn’t have hugged him. I shouldn’t be getting close to any of you.”

“What does that _mean_ ,” Ray cries, but Gavin just shakes his head again.

“It’ll all just end in tears.” His hand goes to his gun again and he glances up at Ray. “Are you gonna stop me?”

“No,” Ray replies, without even really thinking about it. “You can have your gun if you want. We all have ours.”

“I’m gonna get out,” Gavin says. “You can come too.” He sees Ray’s disapproving look and bites his lip, something pleading in his eyes. “I feel so sick. I can’t stay in here.”

“Gav, buddy, you’re not giving me many reasons to trust you here. If you really didn’t do it just stick it out a few more hours and we’ll all get out together, okay? But we can’t just ditch the others.” 

Gavin’s looking at the floor. His hands are shaking and he’s made no move to head towards the door again, so after a second Ray moves in and takes him by the shoulder, steering him back out towards the main warehouse area. He follows easily.

“I’m just scared, Ray,” Gavin admits after a moment, and Ray sighs a bit.

“Don’t be scared.”

“That’s what Michael used to always say to me."

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a wuss,” Ray teases. “No grown man should be scared of Slender Man.”

Gavin makes a squawking noise of protest and Ray grins a bit.

“I mean it, though,” Ray replies, “Don’t run away again. Please.”

Gavin hesitates. “I saw you with Ryan before. Seems like he’s fine with you. But he hates me.”

Ray bites his lip. He doesn’t deny it.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he says instead. “You used to be so happy. I hate that I made you - all of you - so upset by my leaving. I hate that Dan got to be there for you the last two years and I didn’t. I know it’s my own fault. But if it comes to it now I’ll stick up for you, okay? Just don’t give us reasons not to trust you if you say you didn’t do it.”

Gavin eyes him with caution and Ray stares earnestly back. After a moment Gavin looks over at the door again, then sighs, and turns away from it.

“Okay,” he whispers, and Ray smiles a bit. Gavin pulls off his jacket then and hands it back to Ray.

“I’m fine now,” he says, and Ray raises his eyebrows.

“You sure?” he asks, and Gavin nods. Ray’s grin widens and he takes the hoodie back, pulling it on himself. It’s still a bit warm from where Gavin was wearing it, and he zips it up quickly, Gavin watching him with something like a smile. 

As they head out of the room Jack steps out from where he was in a doorway leading off to another storage unit. He glances at the two of them, then at the door, and frowns.

-

Geoff looks pained when he sees Jack hurrying towards him, but his face quickly hardens into a scowl.

“What?” he demands.

“Gavin was trying to leave again just then,” Jack blurts out - loudly, his voice carrying. The others aren’t far, Gavin himself sitting close by, and they head over immediately. Gavin freezes guiltily when Geoff’s gaze turned to him. “And he suggested to Ray that he leave too.”

“Not cool, Jack,” Ray snaps - but Ryan is glancing at him now, not suspicious but worried. “If you saw that then you saw the whole thing and you know what we were talking about. Gav’s fine.”

“He stole his gun back and tried to shoot the lock off, Ray,” Jack points out. “You can’t just ignore the evidence you don’t want to see.”

Ray frowns at him, but Jack turns around, looking desperately at Geoff, then Michael, then finally turning to Ryan.

“And you,” he says - “You all jumped at my throat for going outside but Gavin said he saw Ryan leave too.”

“I was smoking,” Ryan says very calmly.

“So you fucking say,” Jack snaps, but Ryan steps forward threateningly now, hard and cold again.

“You seem very fucking desperate to pin the blame on someone else,” he says, and Jack glares back at him, not backing down.

“Because I can tell you’re all turning against me!” he cries, and looks around at them all again. Michael is staring back at him, face blank - Ray and Geoff scowling - Gavin looks like he doesn’t know who to believe. He’s avoiding Ryan’s gaze but won’t quite meet Jack’s eyes either.

“It’s _me_ , guys,” Jack pleads. “It’s just _me_. I’d never do this.”

“But you think I would,” Gavin pipes up in a small voice, “You’re trying to turn this on me now?”

“And me,” Ryan adds darkly.

Geoff steps in then.

“Someone here is lying,” he says. “We’ve all made our cases for innocence but someone here is fucking lying and we don’t have much time to find out who.”

“You need to make up your damn mind,” Gavin blurts out - Geoff turns to him with a glare but Gavin’s clutching the side of his head again and Geoff’s scowl falters.

“You all fuck off now and stop trying to dob on each other,” he says. “I’ll think about this a bit more.”

“Not much time left,” Michael mutters, and Geoff clenches his jaw, turning away.

-

Ryan lingers even after the others disperse. Geoff glances up at him and his eyes are very tired.

“What will you do?” Ryan asks. “When you find out who did it. Michael was asking me before.”

“I don’t fucking know,” Geoff groans.

“You need to decide. Will you kill them?”

“Jesus, Ryan!”

“Someone sold out the crew.” Ryan tilts his head, but then seems to falter immediately. His voice is less sure when he adds, “Someone is one of us.”

Geoff just throws up his arms helplessly.

“What do you suggest I do?” he asks, but Ryan just shrugs as well, equally uncertain. He turns away then, leaving Geoff alone, and heads off back to Ray, who’s waiting for him by the side of the room.

“Gav was trying to get out but I still don’t think it’s him,” he whispers, and Ryan frowns.

“Ray…”

“I can just _tell_ , Ry. Trust me. He’s just hurt and scared, that’s why he wants out of here.”

“Hmmm,” Ryan says, but then sighs, reaching up to rub at his temples. “I really think it might be Jack.”

“It couldn’t be,” Ray protests, “Not Jack, he’s so… he’s _Jack_. He could never do this.”

“It has to be someone, Ray,” Ryan points out. “You can’t just say that about everyone.”

Ray bites his lip and sighs. He takes out his own gun and checks the magazine. Ryan watches him curiously as he puts it away, then tracks his gaze to Gavin, climbing the crates on the other side of the room to sit perched directly under one of the holes in the rafters. Too high to jump but close to the fresh air and the sun. 

-

**10 HOURS TRAPPED**

It’s approaching on evening now. The sun isn’t quite sinking yet, not at this time of year, but the weather has grown cloudy and the light in the warehouse is steadily dimming. The sirens and noises outside are growing ever louder - the baying of police dogs undercutting them now, joining in the search as they seem to be focusing more and more manpower on the area, determined to pin the crew down, seeming to somehow know they’re still around. That they haven’t escaped yet.

As the noises get closer they all grow tenser with it. Geoff paces agitatedly around the main area, the others hanging around in an uncomfortable silence. No one speaking or moving, everyone stiff and wary.

Finally Gavin moves. He is still up on the crates and he stands up now, craning his neck towards the hole in the roof above. 

Jack, down below, stiffens and rises, moving towards him.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he yells. “You gonna climb out that hole?”

Gavin looks down at him and sneers.

“Yes, Jack,” he calls back. “I’m gonna sprout wings and fly out, you fucking idiot. You all say I’m a bird, right? Oh my God, there’s your bloody evidence. Like, fuck off. I need fresh air and it stinks like fish in here and my head hurts-”

He sways alarmingly and Ray darts forward, arms out as though to catch him, but he steadies himself and throws out the finger at Jack, who’s frowning still.

“Get down before you hurt yourself,” Michael snaps, but Gavin just shakes his head. They’re all rising, moving forward now, and Geoff folds his arms and looks up at the other man.

“Gav, get down here right now,” he orders.

Gavin hesitates, but he listens to _him_ , and clambers down off the crates. Ray catches his arm and helps him to the ground but Gavin pulls away a moment later. They’re standing in a loose circle now, and with the sounds outside slowly growing in volume, there’s a sense of rising tensions, everyone’s gazes darting to each other suspiciously, waiting for something to happen.

“We can’t stay here,” Ryan says finally.

Michael nods immediately. “It’s too dangerous. Let’s just get the hell out and sort this all out later.”

“No,” Geoff snaps.

“Then fucking _pick someone_ ,” Ryan snarls, and Geoff’s fists clench defensively.

It’s Jack who pipes up next, turning to Geoff with a scowl.

“I’m starting to think it might really have been you if you’re just _keeping_ us here until you can find a way to somehow worm your way out of this,” he says.

Geoff rounds on him furiously.

“It wasn’t fucking me. Now you’d better prove your innocence right the fuck now, Pattillo - where’d you go back at the house and during the heist?”

“I needed space! I just needed space away from you assholes!” Jack cries.

“Likely fucking story,” Geoff snaps, and Jack throws his hands up.

“It’s _true_. Also, the burden of proof should be on the accuser.”

“We don’t follow the law here, Jack,” Ryan says coldly - but something in Jack seems to snap then. He starts towards Geoff angrily, gesticulating wildly.

“Fuck you! Fuck you all! I can’t believe this, I can't believe you’d all just fucking turn on me.”

He spins on his heel and makes a jerking move towards the door only to be stopped by the click of the safety on Geoff’s gun.

“I think it was you,” Geoff says flatly - and his weapon is pointing at Jack now. Jack’s frozen, turning slowly, then he pulls out his own gun, eyes wide and almost scared - Ray sucks in his breath, Michael stiffens, Gavin gives a muted little whimper.

“Guys,” Michael begins, quietly.

“Geoff, you fucking asshole,” Jack spits, hand shaking as he points the gun at the other man’s chest. “After all we’ve been through…”

“After all we’ve been through,” Geoff cries, his own aim not wavering either, “You did _this-_ ”

“I _didn’t-_ ”

“Stop it,” Ryan orders, as Jack starts to step forward. He snatches his own gun out and points it at Jack until the other man stops moving. 

“Oh God, oh God,” Gavin cries, and frantically pulls his weapon out as well. Jack’s gun swings towards him and Ray steps forward immediately, drawing his own gun and holding out an arm to keep Gavin back.

“Everyone calm the fuck down,” Michael snaps. “We can’t just start pinning blame like this!”

“Jack,” Geoff orders, ignoring him. “Get on your knees.” 

“You don’t _know_ it was Jack!” Michael shouts-

(Six men in a circle-)

“This wasn’t me,” Jack cries, not budging. 

“How can you _do_ this to us,” Geoff yells, when Jack doesn’t obey - “‘Just needed space’ my ass - you’re lying, stop _lying_ -”

“I’m not lying!” Jack screams, and waves the gun towards Ryan. “ _He’s_ got the mask on, he’s the one who could be thinking fucking anything and we’d never be able to tell-”

“Don’t pin this on me,” Ryan says, but for all his attempt to sound menacing his voice cracks, revealing his desperate upset, and they all jerk at the sound of it, the slip up seeming to raise everyone else’s emotions in turn.

(Six voices rise, shouting-)

“Just - put the guns down,” Michael orders, but when everyone’s weapons swing towards him at the sound of his voice, he pulls his own pistol out, raising it and pointing it at their leader. “No one can _prove_ it was Jack so just put your _fucking gun down, Geoff_!”

Gavin starts backing away and Jack points at him.

“Gav’s trying to leave again, for God’s fucking _sake_ he keeps trying to-”

“I hate you all!” Gavin shouts abruptly. His voice is ragged and wretched still, nearly a sob - “Why are you all doing this, I hate you all, I _hate you_ -”

“Everyone _stop_ ,” Ray attempts, and exchanges a helpless glance with Michael when he’s ignored.

The sirens grow ever louder.

“I can’t believe this.” Jack’s nearly crying too now, gun darting to every one of them in turn. “How could you, Geoff, I love you - I love you _all_ how can you _do this_ -”

“Shut up, just shut up,” Geoff says - frantic now, one hand tearing at his hair, the other wobbling the gun around in Jack’s direction. “I can’t, I can’t-”

“ _Stop_ ,” Michael cries again, at the same time as-

Jack steps forward and Geoff stiffens in alarm, and-

“God damn it,” says Ryan, just as-

“Just _stop_ ,” Gavin cries-

“Fucking get _down_ , Jack-” Geoff warns, desperately, and-

“Put _your_ gun down-” Jack is yelling still-

-

Six guns in a room. 

One goes off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> devilheaded on tumblr drew [this beautiful fanart for chapter three](http://devilheaded.tumblr.com/post/131422026766/doodles-for-chapter-3-of-whalehuntingboyfriends), thank you so much, I love it! <3 <3

**TWO YEARS AGO**

A loud cheer fills the penthouse apartment, accompanied by the clinking of glasses as the six men standing around the table raise a toast. Spread out before them are the plans - blueprints of the bank, mapped out escape routes - but their eyes are on each other, exchanging bright smiles and nods as they knock back their drinks.

“Last big push, boys,” Geoff crows with a grin. He’s at the head of the table as usual, suited up with bow tie and all, moustache curled to perfection, looking every inch the dramatic mob boss who’s ruled the entire city for the last year. “We’re shooting for a million here.”

“Then time for the summer holidays,” Ray adds, and Michael, standing next to him, glances over fondly.

“Ray would much rather be playing Call of Duty right now,” he says, and Ray shoots him a mock glare.

“Hey, I can shoot people in real life too.”

“Well, this time you’ll be down on the ground with us,” Geoff reminds him, and Ray nods, shooting a mournful look at his pink rifle, lying on the table on the other end of the room.

“We’re good to go I think,” Jack adds then, laying down the plans he was looking through. He glances at the clock. “Two hours, then we’re up. Everyone go get ready.”

“Better hit the bong before we go,” Ray begins, and Gavin laughs at him.

“You always say that! You always say that but you never do it.”

“You just don’t _see_ me do it,” Ray replies, waggling his eyebrows, and Gavin laughs again before turning away, muttering about doing his hair.

They split off throughout the apartment. It’s late afternoon going on evening and the penthouse is cast in a cheerful orange glow, plenty of light coming in through the huge windows that take up nearly an entire wall, looking out over the rest of Achievement City. The Corpirate’s logo might be plastered over half the office buildings, but there’s no doubt who the king of the castle is as Geoff strides over to the window with a glass in hand to look out over his kingdom.

Jack is left standing by the table with Ryan as the others wander off, and looks up when he feels the other man’s eyes on him.

“Alright?” he asks, and Ryan nods.

“Are you?” he asks, and Jack smiles a bit, putting the plans down again and turning to face him. Ryan’s wearing his jacket but his mask is off, his face bare - his blue eyes gentle and soft with concern.

“I’m fine, Ry. Just want everything to go smoothly.”

“You worry too much,” Ryan chides, and reaches out to press his arm. “It always turns out fine.”

“I know,” Jack replies, and looks down at where Ryan’s hand lingers on his arm for an extra moment before he lets it slips away. 

“Touch wood,” Ryan says then, knocking on the table, and Jack laughs, Ryan shooting him another grin before heading over to where Ray and Michael are sitting on the couch sorting out their weapons.

“Hope you two aren’t causing trouble over here,” he says, and Michael shoots him a smirk.

“Just giving Ray some tips for when he actually has to interact with people in the field instead of sitting alone on a roof.”

“Fucking excuse you,” Ray protests. “I am a master of human interaction.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks, eyebrows rising, and Ray turns to him and sticks his tongue out.

“‘course. I’ve played the Sims, I know how things work.”

Michael guffaws. “You’ll have to prove it. Human interact with me later.”

“I’ll human interact with you all night, baby,” Ray says, and Ryan raises his hands, laughing.

“Save it ‘til after the heist, you two. No getting distracted now.”

“Who’s distracted?” Michael asks, turning to him with a mischievous grin. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Ryan’s eyes track the motion - only to rear back with a yelp when Ray reaches over to grab something and accidentally knocks a pile of cushions over him. With a low growl Ryan snatches one up and whacks him with it - Ray laughs, trying to scramble to safety as Michael grabs his own cushion and joins in with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Hey guys, save your energy over there,” Geoff calls out, turning from the window to watch them with a fond smile. He ducks as Ryan throws a cushion at him next - “Watch it, asshole, I’m holding a drink!” - before crossing the main room towards the corridor.

“I mean it,” he hollers over his shoulder as he leaves. “Don’t exhaust yourselves before the big hit!”

The only answer he gets is a torrent of muffled curses from Michael, cut off now and then by the thwack of pillows hitting bodies - he rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning as he turns down the hall and enters the bathroom.

Gavin’s standing in front of the sink, washing his hands and looking at himself in the mirror. His blonde hair is now slicked up into its usual spikes. Geoff comes up behind him, setting his now empty glass on the counter before wrapping his arms around Gavin’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

Gavin looks up, meeting his eyes in the mirror and smiling a bit. “What are you doing?”

“Checking up on you,” Geoff replies. He turns his face in towards Gavin’s neck. “You smell good, Mr. Fancy Expensive Aftershave.”

“Get off me, you big lug,” Gavin laughs, squirming away. He straightens his shirt and turns towards Geoff, who’s got a soft smile on his face. The other man reaches up and thumbs a bit of soap off Gavin’s cheek.

“Seriously though, you alright?” he asks, and Gavin blinks a few times.

“Why’d you ask?”

“You were quiet this morning,” Geoff replies, and moves to shut the bathroom door before coming back over to him. “Not like you before a heist.”

“Ah,” is Gavin’s comprehensive response to that. He turns back to the sink and picks up a gold ring sitting on the counter, sliding it onto his thumb. Then his sunglasses, hooking them into the collar of his shirt. The gold watch is last, and he fumbles with the latch before Geoff reaches out and takes hold of his wrist, helping with the clasp.

“Things are changing,” Gavin says abruptly, and Geoff looks up at him, not letting go of his hand.

“What do you mean?”

“This. Us. _All_ of us.” Gavin gestures towards the door, the distant noise of the others outside. “You know what I mean.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Geoff asks cautiously, and Gavin bites his lip.

“No. It’s just… after this job, we’ll be on holiday. And you know things are gonna change then, when we’re not so busy. When we have time to… do stuff.”

“ _Stuff_ ,” Geoff begins, teasingly, but drops it when he seems to realise how serious Gavin looks. His face softens a bit and he leans in, cupping the other man’s cheek. “Gav. That’s a good thing. We’ve been dancing around this for ages. If taking a break means things finally get a move on… I’m all for it. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Gavin replies, without even really thinking about it. “I know that. It’s just kinda nerve wracking waiting for it to finally break. For someone to finally make the first move.”

“Nerves before a heist aren’t good,” Geoff replies, and Gavin scoffs, starting to protest - only to go silent when Geoff takes another shuffling step towards him, and suddenly they’re very close, and the other man’s hand is still on his cheek.

“Geoff,” Gavin says - something slow and cautious in it - but he doesn’t protest, and when Geoff closes the distance between them and presses their lips together, he doesn’t pull away. Just rests his hands on Geoff’s waist after a second and kisses back. It’s slow, sweet - easy and comfortable the way everything between them has always been easy and comfortable. Still, Gavin’s flushed when they pull back, and even Geoff seems a little nervous as he reaches out to straighten Gavin’s sunglasses where they’re about to fall off his shirt.

“Guess I just made that first move,” he says, and grins - Gavin grins back, and suddenly whatever small tension there might have been between them is broken.

“That was-”

“Something we can talk about after all this,” Geoff adds, and Gavin nods - but he’s smiling now, can’t seem to stop, and Geoff’s grinning too as he reaches out to mess up Gavin hair, to a series of indignant squawks.

Just across the hall in the second bathroom Ryan has retreated from the chaos and is peering into the mirror, carefully applying his face paint. He doesn’t turn when Ray enters the room, deep in concentration - but pauses when Ray stops behind him and says, quietly, “Let me.”

Ryan stills, turning to look at him. There’s something very earnest in Ray’s face and after a moment Ryan nods and hands him the brush, moving to sit on the edge of the bath. Ray glances at the tubs of paint, almost hesitant before he gets to work, Ryan holding very still.

“You could try a different pattern now and then,” Ray speaks up.

Ryan scoffs a bit. He might be a little wary but he can feel what Ray’s doing and it’s not anything too drastic, like painting a moustache on him (reason number one why Gavin hasn’t been allowed to do this again).

“There is comfort in familiarity,” he replies, sarcastically wise, and Ray snorts.

“New things can be exciting too.”

“That’s true.”

“That’s why you’re all always telling me to go outside. _Come to the zoo, Ray, it’ll be fun. We won’t start any fires or anything_.”

“Okay, the _chimpanzee_ started the fire-”

“Sure it did, Ryan. Sure it did.” Ray laughs a bit and Ryan’s lips twitch into a smile, though he tamps it down quickly to avoid smudging the paint. Still, his eyes are fixed on Ray with something very soft and fond as the other man continues his work, falling quiet now, his tongue poking out between his teeth a little in concentration. One hand goes up to hold Ryan’s head at the right angle, Ray’s face moving in very close to his as he paints carefully around his eyes. Ryan doesn’t close them but his breath goes very still and carefully controlled.

Ray meets his eyes and smiles before pulling back.

“Done.”

“I’m scared to look,” Ryan teases, but sits up and looks in the mirror. He has the pattern of his paint committed to memory but looking in the mirror now there’s no difference than if he’d done it himself. It seems Ray remembers every brush stroke too.

He turns back to Ray and smiles.

“Thank you,” he says, and Ray’s lips twitch a bit. He leaves Ryan to pack up the paints and wait for it to dry before putting his mask on, shooting him a jaunty salute before prancing out.

Geoff’s just exiting the bathroom as well, and Ray - observant Ray - doesn’t miss how his bow tie is a bit askew, his moustache slightly flattened. His eyebrows rise.

“Wasn’t Gav in there?” he asks, and Geoff’s face turns a bit red. Ray’s brows make a committed effort to rise into his hairline. “Oh my God, did you fuck him?”

“What? No,” Geoff splutters, and Ray just laughs before moving off towards his room. Geoff shakes his head, tutting, but pulls out his phone and uses it as a mirror to fix himself up before exiting into the main room.

Jack’s still standing by the table and Geoff comes up behind him, resting a hand on his back.

“You always worry too much,” he says. “We’ve gone over it a hundred times.”

“This radio wasn’t working before,” Jack says with a frown, handing it over.

Geoff turns it on.

“One two three, one two…” He trails off, realising it isn’t transmitting to the others, and bangs it against the table a few times. The light goes green. “One two three, one two three - fixed it.”

“You sure?” Jack asks. He tests another one but again it takes a few tries for it to work. “Think that’s gonna be a problem?”

“They’re working okay now, aren’t they?” Geoff asks. “Think they just needed a bit of a warm up.”

“You sure?” Jack asks, but Geoff’s distracted as Gavin walks out of the bathroom and goes to join Michael on the couch. Suddenly he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, fiddling with the radio before putting it down and jamming his hands into his pockets, glancing at Gavin a few times over his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jack,” he replies distractedly, and Jack raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t argue further.

Michael and Gavin are bickering over something when Geoff crosses over to them, Gavin rummaging about in his backpack. They look up at his approach and Gavin gives Geoff a small, almost bashful smile.

“This one’s still not ready,” Michael says, glancing suspiciously between them. Geoff snaps his gaze away from Gavin and towards the other man.

“Are you?” he asks, and Michael snorts.

“‘course I am. Always am. You know me, Geoff, I’m your most reliable one.”

“That’s why you’re my favourite, Michael,” Geoff replies, and Michael grins at him.

Gavin gives an indignant squawk. “I thought _I_ was your favourite.”

“Michael’s my secret favourite.”

“Hell yeah I am. Suck it, Gav.”

“That’s not fair. You’re not allowed to have faves,” Gavin says, but laughs when Michael pokes at his side. Geoff watches the two of them fondly.

“Michael’s my favourite because I never have to worry about him,” he says, and Michael shoots him another smile. “Speaking of, go get Ray for me, won’t you? We need to start heading off in a minute.”

Michael nods. He bumps against Geoff’s side as he gets up from the couch and Geoff pats his arm, smiling fondly after him.

“You gonna snog him next?” Gavin demands, and Geoff turns to him.

“What?” he asks - over at the planning Jack looks up, startled - Gavin just sticks his tongue out at Geoff before bouncing up and heading off after Michael.

“Did he just say ’snog’?” Jack asks, and Geoff turns red, flapping a hand at him to wave the subject off.

Gavin reaches Michael’s side and the other man glances over at him with a grin. They head to Ray’s room - the door’s not shut so they enter cautiously. Ray’s sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by ammo, packing his own bag carefully.

“Ready to go?” Michael asks, and Ray looks up. He smiles, but it’s a little forced, and Michael frowns a bit, moving to his side.

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t be worried about being down on the ground with us.”

“I’m not,” Ray replies, but not very convincingly. “Just prefer sniping is all.”

“It’ll be fine.” Michael reels Gavin in and slings his arms around them both. “I’m excited. In the field with both my boys.”

“I’m Boi Prime,” Gavin insists, and Michael rolls his eyes, reaching over Ray to give Gavin a noogie. Ray yelps as he’s abruptly squashed between them, but he’s laughing when they pull back, Michael’s arm still reassuringly around his shoulders. 

Jack and Geoff are waiting a little impatiently by the time they get back out to the main room.

“Come on,” Jack insists. “Traffic’s kinda shitty. We don’t want to be late to our own heist.”

“We have eons,” Geoff insists. “It’s still bright out there.”

It might be bright but the light’s still ebbing slowly away, that glint of evening beginning to shimmer on the horizon. After a minute Gavin puts his sunglasses on.

“Where’s Ryan?” Jack demands, and Gavin snorts.

“Probably still putting his makeup on-” 

He breaks off as Ryan abruptly sweeps out of the bathroom, mask on and menacing as usual.

“What was that, Gavin?” he asks pleasantly, and Gavin gives a rather distressed little squeak, dancing away as Ryan tries to knock his sunglasses off his face. Geoff rolls his eyes and heads towards the door.

“Come on then, idiots. We’ve got a heist to pull.”

Gavin unzips Ryan’s backpack halfway and then runs out the door before the other man can catch him, snickering to himself. Michael and Ray follow after him, laughing too.

“There shall be a recompense!” Ryan hollers after them, and Jack rolls his eyes as he goes to zip the bag back up.

“Thanks,” Ryan says, turning to him - Jack just smiles.

“Deal with him after the heist,” he suggests, and Ryan snorts.

“Oh, I will.”

“Kinda excited to have a break after all this,” Jack continues then - something a little nervous in it, almost hesitant - but Ryan just smiles back at him, knowing what he’s excited for, what he can’t quite bring himself to say yet. They all know it, after all. Things are changing.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, “Me too,” and catches Jack’s hand, squeezing gently for a moment before they head out together.

-

-

-

**NOW**

The sound of the gunshot is deafening in the silence.

It makes everyone in the room jump and flinch. Jack and Geoff spring apart from each other, cringing away - Ray stumbles back - Michael drops into a crouch, one arm coming up automatically to protect his face -

And Ryan spins around, tense, his gun snapping up to point directly at the source of the shot.

Gavin. 

His eyes are wide as dimes, the gun still out ahead of him - pointed harmlessly at the space between Jack and Geoff - his hands shaking so badly that the barrel of the weapon is wavering about all over the place. 

“Oh shit,” he gasps now, chest heaving - “Shit, shit, shit - sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Geoff throws his hands up, looking awfully rattled. “Oh my fucking God, Gavin - get your fucking finger off that trigger right now!”

“You shot at Geoff,” Ryan says darkly - voice hard as steel now - but Gavin shakes his head and lifts his finger off the trigger, raising his hands defensively.

“It was an accident, I swear, my finger slipped-”

“He’s shaking like a leaf, Ry, he didn’t mean to,” Ray says, but he’s already moving in to grab Gavin’s wrist, trying to pull the gun away from him.

Whether Gavin meant to fire or not, his shot has had one awful effect - they’re all on edge now, nerves rattled - Ryan’s gun still pointed at Gavin, Geoff raising his again too, Jack wavering and unsure exactly if everyone’s still ganging up on him. Weapons are still raised and, indeed, Ryan’s and Geoff’s are turning back towards Jack now-

But they’re still distracted, and at that moment Michael moves forward.

Geoff’s turned towards Ray and Gavin and by the time he notices Michael surging towards him it’s too late. In a second Michael has seized his arm and twisted it up behind his back - Geoff yells, dropping his gun - the next thing they know Michael is dragging Geoff backwards with his own gun pressed to the other man’s head. 

“Michael?” Jack begins, startled.

Ryan turns his attention from Gavin to Michael and _freezes_ as he notices the situation.

“No one move,” Michael orders.

A terrible silence falls in the warehouse.

It takes a moment for it to register. Michael standing there, chest heaving, one arm pinning Geoff’s behind his back, the other pointing the gun firmly at his temple. Despite everything that’s happened tonight it doesn’t quite seem real, like some act or game.

But when reality hits them all that _this is happening_ \- that Michael’s got his gun pointed at Geoff and is staring around at them all with red rimmed eyes-

Ray stumbles back as though he’s been hit, staring at Michael in horror, his own weapon lowering purely from the shock of it. Jack and Ryan go very still, tense - Ryan still pointing his gun at Jack, but staring at Michael now - their faces cold and blank and unreadable. And Gavin - Gavin just starts shaking his head, one hand coming up to grip at his hair.

“No,” he moans, low and shaky. “No, no, no, no...”

Geoff’s eyes are very wide. Their difference in height means that Michael’s holding him bent back awkwardly at an angle where he can’t really move. And normally - normally he might fight back, struggle, try to break away - but this is _Michael_. Michael with a gun to his head. Michael who’s _done this_ \- something almost defeated passes over his face, and he stays where he is, silent.

“Michael,” Jack hisses finally, and Michael’s eyes dart to him.

“Put your gun down, Jack,” he says, voice too calm. “All of you, put the guns down right now.”

“Michael,” Gavin pleads, and starts to step towards him only to freeze when Michael drags Geoff back another pace and jams the gun harder against his head. Gavin’s face crumples. “Michael, boi, it’s not you, it’s not _you_ -”

But Michael meets his eyes then, and there’s something hard and determined and _angry_ in it and-

It hits everyone then, that now they have a definite answer. With Jack it was never sure - always that vague doubt - but things have come to a head now. There is no denying this.

Ray lowers his gun.

Ryan doesn’t. 

Michael glances at the skull mask, that blank horrific face eyeing him coldly, and his eyes narrow a little, especially when Ryan’s aim slowly swings from Jack to him. But Geoff is still in the way, a human shield, and despite the anger radiating from Ryan, there’s still something hesitant and unsure in his movements.

Gavin drops heavily to the floor, letting his gun fall to the ground beside him. Ray glances down at him, but Gavin’s barely paying attention at this point, just rocking back and forth again and holding his head in his hands.

When Jack starts turning his gun towards him as well, Michael scowls.

“Put them down,” he insists. “I fucking mean it. For God’s sake,” he adds, and glares at Ryan, “It wasn’t Jack, if that isn’t fucking obvious by this point. Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe you all just turned on someone like that!”

His words are angry but there’s something frantic, almost panicked underneath them, and he steps back again, pulling Geoff with him.

“Michael,” Geoff says finally, voice very strained - but he breaks off when Michael’s grip tightens on his arm and he jabs the gun hard against his head again. Michael’s hands are shaking a little and one gun has already gone off at the wrong time tonight.

Jack slowly starts to lower his weapon. He looks wrecked now, as it all seems to flood in and hit him. Even Ryan - still pointing his gun - can’t seem to work out what to do.

“Why did you do it?” Jack demands, voice trembling.

Michael lets out a hysterical laugh.

“Why the fuck do you _think_ I did it, after what you all did to me? After you _abandoned me_ ,” he spits towards Ryan, Gavin, Ray - who flinches back at the words - “And after you, _you_ ,” screamed at Jack now, at Geoff still in his grip, “Thought you could just, what? Fucking bring us all back together like nothing ever happened - it doesn’t work, it doesn’t _work_ like that.”

“No wonder we barely heard of you,” Ryan snaps. “Have you been working with the cops this whole time, these last two years?”

Michael hesitates.

“It doesn’t matter,” he begins, shaking his head, but Ryan strides furiously forward, gun raised still, even as Michael backs away and drags Geoff with him.

“It does matter, it fucking _matters_ , explain right the _fuck_ now how you could even - how you could even _think_ about doing something like this-”

His voice is breaking with each word but he’s past caring at this point, and there’s something terrifying about how his carefully constructed control seems to be cracking, falling away to reveal something raw and hurt and _furious._

“Ryan,” Ray starts, moving in and grabbing at his arm, but Ryan’s past listening to him at this point. He shakes him off and starts forward but Ray darts in front of him again, turning towards Michael pleadingly.

“Please, Michael, why would you do this?” he begs. “Please, just tell us, I can’t… there has to be-”

He breaks off as there’s a loud bang from outside, and everyone turns towards the door, alarmed.

Gavin’s gunshot has drawn the attention of the police, still searching for them. The sirens are circling in on the building and there’s a sudden rattling thud against the door as something bumps against it, hard enough to make the crates stacked up against it shake.

“They’re trying to get in,” Jack says, rather uselessly.

“Michael.” Geoff’s voice is too deliberately calm. “We have to get out of here. They’re gonna break the door down.”

Michael’s eyes are wide and frantic, like a cornered animal. Geoff starts to struggle now in his grip and Michael hooks an elbow around his throat, hauling him back again, glancing at the door and then the others, seeming unsure what to do.

Unfortunately Ryan seems heedless of the police at their door, still advancing on Michael with barely restrained fury.

“What did you hope to fucking achieve by this?” he spits. “You wanted us _dead_ , you wanted us-”

“I wanted you _there_ , Ryan,” Michael shouts. “Two years ago I wanted you - _all_ of you - and when I needed you most, where were you? Where were _any_ of you? You all just _fucked_ me over so _yes_ , Ryan, I fucking wanted revenge! I don’t know,” he cries then, and there’s something hysterical in his voice as he rants, “I don’t _know_ , I had the chance and I took it and I… I can’t believe _you_ ,” he shakes Geoff roughly, “Just called us all back in like nothing ever happened. And it’s - it’s all just _fucked up_ , okay, and you all turned on Jack like that and I can’t fucking believe it-”

“They turned on me,” Jack says grimly, “And you could have stopped that, Michael. You could have owned up right at the start.”

“Yes, Jack,” Michael sneers, “I could have owned up and then what? Geoff would have fucking gone for my throat just like he did to you.”

“We need to get out,” Geoff repeats, ignoring him. And then, despite everything, he turns to _Gavin_ , still crumpled on the floor and hiding his face like he can somehow just pretend this isn’t happening around him. “Gav, get up, buddy, we need to move.”

Gavin doesn’t react and Geoff bites his lip - but they all jump when there’s another crashing bang from the door, accompanied by a rather alarming cracking noise. The sound of sirens and dogs outside gets ever louder.

“What’s your plan now then?” Ryan sneers at Michael. “Or did you not think past getting us shot in that alley?”

“Fuck off,” Michael replies. “Of course I have a plan.”

He pulls out one of the remotes he uses for his explosives and they all freeze, stiffening.

“Michael,” Ray begins, quietly - he has his hands up now, his gun holstered again, approaching his friend with his stance wide and open. Michael’s gaze darts to him suspiciously, gun still trained at Geoff. “Come on, man, I don’t know why you’ve done this but it’s not too late. We can still get out of this together - hell, we need each other right now if we want to get out of this in one piece. Just put the gun down and let’s talk about it, alright?”

Michael stares at him. Ray’s face is pleading, vulnerable - and Michael himself is visibly upset, eyes red, lips pressed together tightly.

“It is too late,” Michael begins, but Ray shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not - it never is, come on, we can come back from this-”

Michael looks over at Ryan - still staring icily at him, gun raised - Jack, who seems on the verge of tears and only has his gun half up, flinching at every blow of the police’s battering ram against the door - Gavin, who’s sitting up now but has his head hanging down, refusing to look at Michael - and Geoff, in his grip. Still again now, but trembling and too quiet, totally unlike himself. No longer in control. No longer sure what he’s doing.

And then Ray, staring earnestly at him, one arm outstretched.

Michael’s lips part a little like he wants to say something - but before he can, there’s a splintering crack from the doors and suddenly deafening noise and light is flooding in from outside as the crates begin to be mowed out of the way by police vehicles.

Many things happen at once then.

The police charge in in a blur of gunfire and wailing sirens and bright sweeping searchlights-

Jack and Ryan spin around, their attention taken by this new threat-

And Michael shoves Geoff roughly away from him and presses the button on his remote. 

The back wall of the warehouse explodes with a force that makes the entire building shake and part of the roof begin to cave in, chaos descending over the room as the police surge in and the crew split apart to save themselves-

-

-

-

**ONE YEAR AGO**

Michael sits cross legged on the stained, thin carpet of the tiny bedroom in a dingy block of flats in downtown Achievement City. It feels a bit like a prison cell in here - metal-framed bed against one wall, a rickety chair by the other, a wilting pot plant in the corner the only thing vaguely resembling ornamentation in the entire room. There’s a half-full glass of liquor on the floor next to him and a number of plans spread out before him. Everything smells stale, bitter like cigarettes.

He glances at his watch and frowns - only to relax when his phone, also laid out on the carpet, starts to vibrate. Glancing at the door - closed, locked - he picks it up.

“Detective.” His voice is hushed and careful.

“Jones,” a tinny voice on the other end replies. “Just confirming, the heist’s gonna take place at seven?”

“Yeah,” Michael replies, and traces a finger along one of the maps ahead of him. “We’re about to head out. Should hit the bank in an hour. Nothing’s changed in the plans - they’re still gonna come in via fifth street. I’ll be blowing the doors from afar and then I’m meant to go in and penetrate the vault. Your boys gotta come in before that and I’ll scram - the others should be clustered ready to go in. Easy for you to take out.”

“Good,” the detective replies. “We’ll wire the payment to you as usual.”

“Make sure you do,” Michael says, and hangs up. He’s left staring into the black, blank screen of his phone and his blurry reflection in it. One year and already he looks different. Harder, leaner - meaner, with facial hair starting to wisp along his jaw and his hair growing out unruly now. He sneers at himself before tossing the phone aside and letting out a heavy sigh, eyes falling to the plans again and the list of the names of this small, wannabe crew on the side.

“This is number five,” he mutters grimly.

“Michael,” a voice calls out from behind the door, and he jumps a bit - “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Michael hollers back. “Just gimme a sec, I’m checking ordnance!”

“No problem.”

“Fucking idiots,” Michael mutters as he drains the rest of his glass and heaves himself to his feet. “No idea what you’re fucking in for.”

He runs a hand through his hair, movements tired and lethargic as he goes to grab his bag of explosives - only to freeze when a familiar ringtone sings through the air, so quietly that for a moment he nearly thinks he’s imagining it. He goes stock-still, ears straining.

“Can’t be,” he murmurs.

The jingling tune he hasn’t heard in a year is emanating quietly from under the bed. With slow, jerking motions he crouches and pulls out his duffle bag of belongings, unzipping it and rummaging until he gets out another phone, a different phone-

The one with the sim card that he couldn’t bring himself to throw away.

It’s lit up right there on the screen. _Incoming Call: Gav._

Michael draws a shuddering breath. His hands are shaking now, his shoulders stiff - and when there’s another knock on the door he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Michael?” the man hollers out again. “We, uh, kinda need to get going.”

“Just a second!” Michael snaps back. He’s still staring at the phone, wide-eyed.

“Look, we seriously need to leave right now. Like we’re all in the cars waiting for you, we need to _go_.”

“I’m coming,” Michael calls back. He glances at the phone, then the maps, then the second phone that he tossed aside. Squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a heavy breath and whispers, “Fuck, _fuck_.”

“Are you coming or what?”

“Give me a _fucking minute_ ,” Michael yells back, and bites his lip, staring at the phone.

“Really, Gav?” he hisses - angry, but something very tired in it. “After a fucking _year_?”

The door handle jiggles and he jumps again, snatching up his bag of explosives. He glances at the phone again - then shakes his head, his face hardening over, and tosses it back into his bag, still ringing - kicking it under the bed before striding out to join the rest of the crew.

-

-

-

**NOW**

The warehouse smells like smoke and brick dust. The explosion has raised up a great cloud of dirt and grime and it’s slowly rolling through the space of the building, making it difficult to see. 

Ray coughs where he’s crouched behind a stack of crates, curled up small and hiding. He raises his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth. His eyes are watering streams down his face and he falls into a choking fit before he manages to recover himself.

In the wake of the explosion everything sounds dim. But there is a lot of noise - gunfire. The crashing sound of more police and vehicles breaking through the warehouse doors. More rubble and beams falling from the destroyed ceiling. And sirens - washing red and blue through the dust in the air.

Ray straightens up, gun at the ready, and gulps in a few breaths. There’s enough space to squeeze himself along the wall towards the back of the warehouse, and he does so. When he emerges he’s at the far side of the building. It’s quieter here, all the cops at the other end, and he looks around.

There’s burning wood and rubble scattered about from the explosion. A massive hole in the back wall where Michael’s charge was set has the orange light of evening spilling into the warehouse. Here he can smell the salty, bitter brine of the bay-

And as he turns, he’s just in time to see Michael vanish out the hole, sprinting away.

Ray hesitates, glancing back towards the commotion at the other end of the building.

“Where the fuck is everyone,” he mutters to himself, and starts forward a little, peering around as though he might catch a glimpse of them even through the dust - “Ryan? Gav?”

No sign of them.

“Damn it,” he hisses, “Damn it-”

He glances back towards the hole and then with a muttered curse starts to run for it too, only to pause, crying out as a bullet suddenly nicks his shoulder with a force that nearly spins him around. He stumbles, turning, in time to see a cop striding towards him, gun raised - in a second he has his own weapon up and is shooting the man through the head. Quick, smack-bang in the middle of his forehead under his helmet. The man drops like a stone and Ray grimaces, hand going to his arm. His fingers come away bloody and his jacket’s torn, but it’s just a graze, and he grits his teeth and wipes the blood on his hand off on his jeans.

He scans the swirling cloud of dust again, searching one more time for any sign of the others - but finds nothing.

One cop already ventured to this side of the warehouse. There’ll be others, and soon.

With a final desperate glance over his shoulder, he sprints out through the hole in the wall, into the open, salty air and towards the bay.

-

“Oh shit,” Geoff gasps, as he ducks back against the wall of one of the side rooms. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

He reloads his gun, slamming another round in before peering cautiously around the doorway and then leaning back against the wall, letting his head fall back against the hard brick with a thud. His chest is heaving and he’s covered in soot and grime from the explosion. The wall behind him vibrates with gunfire and he flinches a bit.

“Geoff.”

Suddenly Jack is skidding into the room - at his entrance Geoff darts upright, gun at the ready, but he lowers it when he sees who it is.

“Jack! Where are the others?”

“I don’t know,” Jack replies helplessly, jostling him along the wall as he ducks against it as well. “Saw Ryan run off somewhere but I didn’t see the others.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Geoff hisses, and Jack looks over at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks - Geoff glances up at him, questioningly, and Jack reaches out and presses his arm. “Did he hurt you?”

“Who?” Geoff asks, and Jack bites his lip.

“Michael,” he replies quietly, and Geoff stares at him a moment longer before shaking his head.

“I’m fine. But things have gone to shit out there, we gotta find an exit.”

Jack nods, and peers out the doorway again. “The roof’s caved in even more. We can climb the rubble, get out that way. They haven’t reached this side of the warehouse yet.”

“You reckon that’ll work?”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, and peers out again, cursing. “They’re on their way over.”

“It’s a long climb.”

“I’ve got your back,” Jack replies, and Geoff stares at him again. There’s something helpless and guilty in it, something questioning, like he can’t quite believe Jack is even _here_ , let alone helping him. And sure enough, there’s something a little annoyed in Jack’s eyes - but below that, a resolute determination, and after a moment Geoff nods.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

-

Ray stumbles out the back of the building to find himself at the far end of the warehouse district. Before him, an abandoned pier stretches along a desolate, rocky span of beach, leading towards some boathouses in the distance.

It stinks out here, like old garbage and rust, and he realises there are some large sewage pipes nearby leading out into the bay. Pulling a face, he starts jogging towards the pier, glancing around the entire time for any glimpse of Michael. The other man has quite a head start on him and he can’t see him anywhere.

He reaches the pier and flinches at the drone of a helicopter above him, jumping down to the sand immediately and crouching under the boardwalk, pressing himself back into the shadows as it flies overhead. It’s a police chopper, followed quickly by a second.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

The helicopters move out over the water and he cautiously emerges, ready to duck back in any second now. A flicker of movement catches his eye and he looks over.

There’s a second pier some distance along the beach - running alongside the cliff, where the water is much deeper. It leads to a little cove where several old speedboats are parked, and Ray squints, pushing his glasses up, only to realise it’s Michael, moving out towards the boats.

Ray creeps out from below the pier and starts after Michael, only to freeze when he notices, coming down a track around the other side of the cliff, another group of police, sweeping the path with torches. From this distance he can see them - but Michael, right up against the cliff face, can’t.

“Shit,” Ray hisses. He glances at the pier behind him, that convenient space to hide and wait things out - then back at Michael and the boats. “Shit, shit - well what the fuck am I meant to do now?”

“Ray!” a voice calls out behind him, and he spins around, peering up over the pier in time to see Jack and Geoff drop down from the roof of the warehouse and start jogging over to him. Ray beckons them furiously over, his shoulders slumping in relief at their approach.

“Ray,” Geoff hisses, dropping to his knees on the edge of the peer so he can reach out and grasp the other man’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ray replies, glancing between the two of them.

“Is Gavin with you?” Geoff demands then, frantically.

“He’s not with you?” Ray asks, and Geoff shakes his head, glancing back at the warehouse.

“Shit, shit, if he’s still in there-”

“It’s a fucking deathtrap in there,” Jack points out, and tugs at Geoff’s arm. “We gotta go, both of you - if we can get to those boats along the beach we can get away before they get out here.”

“We can’t just leave Gav in there,” Geoff insists, but Ray shakes his head too now.

“Gavin’s tougher than he looks. He can take care of himself - and Ryan’s in there too. If we go back in we put everyone at risk. Michael’s the one who needs help.”

“Michael?” Geoff demands, his face clouding over - Jack frowns too - Ray jerks his head towards the cliff.

“Those cops are headed right for him.”

The others follow his gaze, and after a moment Jack hesitates, shaking his head.

“They won’t shoot him. He’s on their side.”

“Then why is he running?” Ray demands.

“Who the fuck knows, and who the fuck cares,” Geoff snaps, and gestures towards the boats again. “We need to go right now, Ray, or we won’t be able to get away.”

Ray hesitates again, then shakes his head.

“You go. I’ll catch up.”

“What are you doing?” Jack demands.

“I just need to see how this plays out. I’ll meet you back at the safehouse,” Ray insists. “You two go now, see if you can get in touch with Kdin and get these guys off our backs.”

“Kdin works for Burnie now,” Geoff begins, and Ray’s face crumples a little. Yet another reminder of how much things have changed, how much he’s missed - but Geoff reaches out and presses his arm then. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Who, me?” Ray asks, and Geoff’s lips twitch a little. He looks worried, but he heads off towards the boats. It’s getting darker now as evening fades in quickly, the sun sinking down below the horizon and casting a blinding glimmer out over the gentle waves of the bay.

“Be careful,” Jack says, and Ray’s smile fades. He moves forward and touches Jack’s shoulder briefly.

“I’m sorry about before,” he begins, but Jack just shakes his head and follows after Geoff. Ray sighs, shoulders slumping a bit, before turning back to Michael, watching intently.

“Probably nothing,” he mutters to himself, “Probably all worried over nothing, the asshole,” but he keeps his eyes on Michael as the other man reaches the end of the pier-

Only for the police to head down from the cliff and turn, catching Michael in the beams of their searchlights.

Michael freezes, hands rising. From here Ray can’t hear what happens, but Michael looks like he’s shouting at the police. Whatever exchange passes between them, it isn’t long before they raise their weapons again, and Michael starts backing away, getting his own gun out.

“Shit,” Ray hisses, starting forward and then pausing, hesitant.

He pulls out his rifle, crouching down on the sand and looking through the scope. His crosshair trails over the members of the police advancing in on Michael. But the next thing he knows, there’s gunfire ringing out, and he watches as Michael falls back off the pier and into the water. Ray wasn’t looking at him at the moment it happened and can’t tell if he was shot and fell in or if he jumped. Either way, the police pepper the water where he entered with shots before seeming to give up on him and moving on.

“Damn it, damn it,” Ray hisses. They’re coming his way and he ducks back under the boardwalk again. He peers out towards where Geoff and Jack went and in the dimming light he can only just see a boat pulling away. They’re too far to circle back around now.

“Shit,” he whispers. He stays put for a moment, trying to keep his breathing soft and quiet as feet thunder across the pier overhead, heading for the warehouse. It feels like hours, but it’s only minutes before they’ve passed over into the building and he’s able to duck out.

He hesitates once more. He could still get to the boats, if he wanted to. But he looks over at the cliffs again. In the sinking evening light the water is red as blood.

He lets out a hissing breath.

“God fucking damn it, Michael,” he murmurs, and sprints towards the spot where the other man fell in.

-

Gavin’s last bullet takes out a cop who’s clambering over the stacks of fallen crates that have effectively blocked off the back end of the warehouse, providing some semblance of protection. The shot hits the guy in the thigh and he drops, but when Gavin goes to fire again he’s met with the resounding click of an empty chamber.

“Oh, God damn it,” he hisses, and ducks back into the side room he’s been hiding in, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, as he searches his pockets and then backpack for any spare ammo. None. “Oh, for God’s _sake-_ ”

He straightens up and moves to lock the door, but there’s no bolt and he has no key. Hands shaking now, he spins around and frantically casts about the room for any sort of plan.

Nothing but crates.

“Damn it, damn it…” 

He paces about the room, then goes towards one of the empty crates in the corner. Looks at it for a moment. Looks down at _himself_ for a moment. Then back at the crate.

“Stupid, bloody _stupid_ ,” he begins, but then jumps at the rattle of gunfire from outside and with a shrill little noise of alarm, steps into the crate and begins squashing himself down inside.

He’s nearly all the way in when the door slams open and he frantically shoves the rest of himself inside. It’s to no avail; footsteps stride over to the crate immediately, but it’s Ryan’s face that pops over the edge of the box.

“Oh my God. What the fuck are you doing?” he demands.

Gavin peers up at him and his shoulders slump in relief. He clambers out of the crate and then does a double take when he realises Ryan’s lost both his mask and his jacket. 

“Ryan! I… I was hiding. Obviously,” he stammers.

Ryan’s eyes narrow a little as his eyes scan over Gavin. The other man is physically unharmed but there’s something very drawn and tired about his face, and when he starts to reach out Gavin flinches back away from him. Ryan looks stricken, but reaches for him again.

“Come on, idiot, we need to get out of here.”  
  
Gavin just stares at him and then, after a second, starts to climb back into the box. Ryan scowls and grabs his arm, tugging hard.

“Come _on_.”

“Do you have a plan?” Gavin cries back, yanking his arm free. He’s starting to breathe too fast. and Ryan quickly lets him go and takes a step back, glancing over his shoulder towards the door. 

“Kill everyone,” he mutters, and Gavin manages a scowl.

“Ryan. We need a proper plan. There’s too many of them. Where’s everyone else?”

“I think they got out,” Ryan says. He starts looking around the room, Gavin watching him with wide eyes. Ryan’s covered in soot, grime - and blood, his undershirt spotted and stained in places, though he isn’t moving like he’s badly injured.

After a moment something catches Ryan’s eye. He starts hauling crates away from against the wall - but they’re heavy, something in them, and after a second Gavin moves in and helps.

“There’s nothing here,” Gavin begins, but Ryan silently points upwards. Gavin looks up and his eyes widen as he notices the exit sign up near the ceiling. It’s easy to miss in the dark and without power.

They heave the crates away to reveal a door, and Ryan lets out a chuckle.

“Who the hell blocks a fire door?” he demands, and then reaches out and tries the handle. It opens easily and he nods, pleased. “At least you can’t lock these things from the inside.”

Gavin shuffles nervously from foot to foot.

“We don’t know where this leads,” he begins. “They might be out there waiting for us.”

“We’ll kill them if they are,” Ryan says grimly, hefting his gun - Gavin is still hanging back a bit, uncertain, and Ryan looks at him for a moment before his face softens and he sighs.

“It’s fine, Gavin. I left my jacket and mask on one of the officers’ bodies out there. With luck the dogs will catch the scent and it’ll buy us a bit of time. But we don’t have long. We need to go right now.”

Gavin bites his lip. He’s staring at Ryan’s face searchingly and after a moment Ryan sighs and stop scowling, staring at him earnestly.

“We need to go _now_ ,” he insists, and Gavin gives a jerky nod. Ryan pushes the door open and ushers him through before stepping in after him.

It’s dark when the door shuts behind them - too dark, only the barest glimmer of light visible up ahead. The stairwell seems to lead _down_ , which is strange considering they were already on ground level.

“Um, I don’t think this is a fire escape,” Gavin begins.

“I don’t care what the fuck it is as long as it gets us out of here.” Ryan moves forward into the dark and Gavin inches after him, feeling out each step before moving. Before long, though, there’s a distant crash behind them as something happens in the warehouse, and alarmed, they both start to rush faster-

Except, in the dark, it is rather impossible to tell when one of the steps is crumbled and broken away. Ryan trips first with a yell that startles Gavin and he loses his footing as well. Both of them fall the rest of the entire flight, landing heavily on the concrete floor at the foot of the stairs with a painful sounding crunch.

For a moment neither of them speak, gasping, winded. Then Gavin pulls out his phone and switches it on, the dim blue glow of the screen lighting up the stairwell.

“Oh God,” he croaks out. “Ryan?”

“‘M here,” Ryan replies, sitting up and then letting out a pained gasp, his hand going to his ribs. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Not really,” Gavin replies quietly. He drags himself to his feet and stumbles, steadying himself against the wall with a hiss - but walks over to Ryan immediately. “Can’t believe we both just stacked it.” 

“Fucking stairs. They’ll have heard the crash, we need to move.” Ryan starts to push himself to his feet and grunts a bit as he struggles to heave his aching body off the ground. Gavin stares at him, eyes wide, and after a moment hesitantly holds out a hand. Ryan stares at him for a moment before grasping it. Gavin struggles to tug him to his feet and when he finally gets him upright Ryan stumbles a bit, catching himself against Gavin and knocking them both back into the wall. They both let out pained groans but quickly realise how awkwardly close they’re pressed together.

Ryan clears his throat and quickly gets off Gavin, stepping back and looking him up and down.

“You hurt anything?"

“Skinned my knee,” Gavin replies a bit sheepishly, but turns then and gives an excited cry. 

There’s light visible up ahead now and it seems these stairs lead into an underground car park that, in turn, opens up near the other side of the bay. “This leads out!”

Ryan follows his gaze and lets out a pleased little noise - only to break off when the door at the top of the stairs crashes open and a man’s shout echoes down the hallway.

“Shit,” he hisses, “They found us, go, go, _go_ -”

He grabs Gavin’s shoulder and shoves him forward - both of them hobbling a little, stumbling the first few paces but quickly pushing the pain aside in favour of sprinting. After a second Ryan’s grip slides down Gavin’s arm to grip at his wrist, keeping a tight hold on him as they run, and this time, Gavin doesn’t pull away.

-

Geoff and Jack sit in silence as they speed through the water in the little boat - Geoff focusing on steering, Jack keeping an eye on the sky for any choppers. The boat is old and rocking violently at the speed they’re going, both of their clothes buffeted by the wind they’re creating. 

The roar of the engine is noisy enough that neither of them have to speak - but after a few moments as they pull quite far out and there’s no sign of pursuit, Geoff brings the boat to a stuttering halt.

“What?” Jack asks, turning to him worriedly, looking about for some threat - but there’s nothing but empty water around them.

Geoff bites his lip. He looks dishevelled and windswept, still covered in dirt and grime from the explosion and clambering out through the roof after.

“We shouldn't have left Ray,” he says.

Jack looks pained.

“He wanted to stay,” he says. “We couldn’t force him. Not when you’re not the boss of him any more and I’m not either. It’s been two years. Besides - he’ll be fine. And we need some of us free to pull a rescue if it turns out someone does get arrested. No point in everyone stuck in there. You know that - leaders have to make hard choices.”

“Leader,” Geoff scoffs. “Not much of that now, am I?”

Jack glances away.

“This isn’t your fault,” he says quietly. “This is all on Michael.”

Geoff just shakes his head.

“I kept us in there when we should have escaped. I caused all this fucking trouble by… by assuming, by turning on _you_ …”

Jack’s eyes are red again. He opens his mouth but can’t seem to think of anything to say to that. After a moment Geoff scoffs and turns away, rubbing his hands over his face.

“And you still helped me escape,” he says, shame and something like self disgust in his tone.

“I couldn’t just abandon you,” Jack whispers, and Geoff swallows hard. He laughs, shaking his head, but it comes out croaky and in the fading light the tears at the corners of his eyes are just visible.

“You’re too good for this world Jack,” Geoff says, tiredly. “Too good for us.”

“I’m not good,” Jack begins, but Geoff shakes his head again.

“You are. We don’t fucking deserve you. You’re the only one who keeps trying to bring us back together.”

“That’s not enough,” Jack blurts out, “To make up for splitting us apart in the first place.”

“You did what you thought was best-”

“Tell that to Michael.”

Jack looks like he regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. They both freeze as they seem to remember exactly what just went down.

And the hurt rises back up again.

_Michael_.

Jack looks away, reaching up to rub at his eyes. After a moment he wraps his arms around himself, glancing back towards the shore and the warehouse. Geoff just clenches his fists, drawing shaking, shallow breaths.

“God,” he hisses, “God, how could he _do it_? It’s just… it’s Michael, he was always so loyal. I can’t. I can’t get my head around it?”

“You had no trouble believing _I_ could do it,” Jack says - haltingly, like he’s not sure he wants to bring it up.

Guilt clouds over Geoff’s face again.

“I don’t know that I did,” he begins, and Jack scowls then, leaning forward.

“You _turned on me_ , Geoff. You fucking pointed your gun at me and told me to get on my knees. So don’t you dare fucking tell me now that you didn’t think it was me-”

“I had to pick someone!” Geoff cries then, frantically. “I had to pick someone just to - to get it out of the way. You were all yelling and I thought it was you but I… I was glad, sort of, that you kept denying it. That there was never any solid proof, not like after Michael did… did _that_. When it really hit home that _he’d_ done it it killed me. But with you, it was never _certain_ , and it meant that I never really had to believe one of us did it. I think deep down I wanted - I _needed_ \- you to prove that it wasn’t you.”

Jack just stares at him, mouth open a little, breathing heavily and eyes shining with tears now.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Geoff pleads then, and leans forward. He touches Jack’s arm and the other man doesn’t pull away. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I fucked up so badly and I just… I was so scared. I didn’t want to believe someone had done it. But you… you _seemed_ like you were the one and I just didn’t know what to do? How could I possibly know how to deal with _this_?”

Jack swallows hard. He meets Geoff’s eyes for the briefest second before glancing away again.

“It hurt,” he says softly, “That you believed I’d ever hurt you. I never would. I…” he trails off, the words remaining unspoken, and Geoff’s face flushes again, more heated upset rising up.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and squeezes Jack’s arm. “I’m so, so fucking sorry. But you… you couldn’t prove where you’d disappeared off to and it just. There are too many secrets between us all now, too many lies…”

He trails off. They fall into silence save for the lapping of the water against the sides of the boat. The air is salt-bitter and stinging against their scrapes and grazes and the backs of their throats, and there isn’t one of the six of them that hasn’t tasted tears by this point.

After a long pause Jack lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Geoff, rubbing his hands over his face.

“You want to know where I went off to?” he demands, though there’s no heat in it. “I said I needed space from you guys. That was true - or partly true, at least.”

Geoff looks confused, and Jack takes a deep breath.

“Arranging all this,” he says, “Bringing you all back in, I… I know I must have seemed really confident it’d work. But I’ve been freaking out about it since I first had the idea, and it only got worse the closer we got to the heist. I’ve been…” He trails off, swallowing hard - shoulders hunched up and defensive now. “I’ve been having-”

“Panic attacks,” Geoff supplies quietly, his face twisting upset in realisation, and Jack gives a shaky nod. He lets out a sigh and rubs his face again.

“It… hasn’t been great. I just needed to get away and sort myself out a couple of times, you know. I didn’t want to… in front of the lads…”

“Oh, Jack,” Geoff murmurs. He looks stricken and Jack starts to force a smile, but lets it fade away quickly. He sighs, kicking at his bag, lying at the bottom of the boat.

“It’s just been so fucked up without you all,” he croaks. “I kept seeing _you_ around while I was working with Burnie, but we never… never really _talked_ , and Kdin would tell me what you were up to and I just… I wanted you all back so much. So _fucking_ much… I had this master plan. We’d spend some time apart and then we’d realise how much we all missed each other and return. Except… except no one came back.”

“I did miss you,” Geoff replies softly. “All of you.”

“Yet here we are.” Jack lets out a miserable sigh and throws his hands up. “God, Geoff, how the fuck did we _get here_?”

Geoff just looks very sad, staring out at the gently rolling waves, and Jack sighs again.

“I just want to know,” he says miserably, “Why Michael did it.”

Geoff’s face clouds over a bit.

“Doesn’t matter. He ran first chance he got.”

“He seemed pretty upset at the end there-”

“He seemed like he was holding a fucking gun to my head is what,” Geoff snaps, but it’s more upset than angry. “Did you see Ryan and Gav back there, though? God, they were so… I dunno. But this - Michael - it’s ruined us. We can’t come back from this.”

“Don’t say that,” Jack says immediately - Geoff looks astounded by how desperate, how _fierce_ it comes out of the other man’s mouth, even after everything that’s happened tonight. “Don’t say that, we can, I still think we _can_ -”

“After what happened back there you still…” Geoff trails off when Jack shoots him a glare, something almost _determined_ in his eyes now.

“You didn’t mean it, did you, before?” Jack asks. “When you said you didn’t care any more.”

Geoff bites his lip.

“No Jack,” he replies, and sighs. “I didn’t.”

“Then we can still do this. We’ll find Michael and all the others. We’ll work out what happened. We’ll work _through_ this-”

“It’s not a fucking Disney movie, Jack,” Geoff snaps, and gestures furiously towards the horizon, “We’re not about to sail off into the fucking sunset here!”

But Jack just shakes his head.

“You all turned on me,” he says quietly, and gives a humourless little smile at the memory. “But I still _love you_. There’s that. That’s something - something _strong_.”

The words make Geoff fall silent, his hands lowering to his sides, mouth dropping open a little. 

Jack looks a little startled at his own words - but he doesn’t take them back. Just stares at Geoff very earnestly, and after a moment sighs.

“Let’s just hope for now,” he says quietly, “That the others are okay.”

Geoff can only nod, silently. Jack turns away then and after a moment Geoff starts up the engine again.

-

Michael is sinking, sinking, sinking.

His body is limp as he slowly drifts towards the bottom of the bay, eyes fallen shut, a thin trail of blood ribboning out from the side of his head. The water is dim, murky, strands of seaweed curling around him as he descends like grasping hands, the occasional small fish darting out of his path.

There’s a distant splash, a disturbance in the water nearby. And suddenly Ray is there, swimming frantically towards him - one hand keeping his glasses clutched to his face, the other stroking desperately through the water as he heads towards Michael. When he reaches him he grabs him around the waist immediately, pulling him close to his side. He’s bleeding too, the wound in his shoulder clouding red in the water around them as he starts to struggle towards the surface.

Their heads break above the water. Ray’s coughing, gasping - struggling to hold Michael up with the other man’s waterlogged clothes. Kicking frantically, legs working double time to keep them both above water, he looks around.

The pier is too high. He can’t climb up from here, not with Michael unresponsive.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, and starts to make for the cove instead.

It seems to take forever to get there. He goes under a few times, emerging choking and spluttering. By the time he gets to the shore his movements are sluggish and jerky and he stumbles as he reaches the slope of the beach, his legs giving out under him. He makes a final push, though, dragging Michael up onto dry ground before he falls down next to him with a groan.

For a moment they both lie still as the last line of sunlight slips away from under them. Then Ray sits up, wiping at his glasses, and turns to Michael.

“Michael?” he begins, reaching out. The other man is soaked, hair plastered flat to his head. He’s alarmingly still but the second Ray rolls him over he starts coughing and choking, and Ray helps him sit up just in time for him to lean over and vomit water.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Ray says, rubbing his back. He reaches up and touches the side of Michael’s head, frowning at the blood.

The other man is busy retching and wheezing. He braces himself against the damn sand, shoulders shaking - then, after a moment, reaches up and digs frantically at his eyes.

“Michael?” Ray asks, confused - the other man is squinting furiously and after a moment he pinches out a contact lens and throws it away, his eyes red and irritated, streaming with tears.

“Fuck,” is all he manages to croak out.

“Michael, are you okay?” Ray repeats.

Michael reaches shakily into his pocket and gets his glasses out. He gets them onto his head and turns to look at Ray. His eyes widen as he realises who it is, some desperate confusion flashing across his face. Ray stares back at him with naked concern and after a moment Michael’s face crumples. He’s shivering hard now with the sunlight gone and when he opens his mouth to try and speak nothing comes out, some shock setting in. He’s still coughing, struggling for breath, and after a second Ray leans in and pulls him into a loose hug, rubbing his back soothingly. Michael doesn’t pull away, just sits there, unresponsive but for his trembling - both of them shaking, shaking as the last daylight fades away and the beach grows dark around them.

-

Ryan and Gavin are running, stumbling along through the winding routes and streets between the many warehouses in this district - vaguely heading back towards the city. Now and then they’ll duck between sheds, squeezing themselves through small gaps and under winding networks of pipes, putting as much distance (and obstacles) between themselves and the police as possible.

It’s working. 

The sounds of pursuit are quite far behind them by now, somehow - a combination of a head start, their skill at dodging the cops, and Ryan shooting the few people they did see behind them letting them pull away from the people chasing them.

For now, at least.

They skid into a narrow lane between rows of storage sheds and Gavin stumbles, starting to tug at his arm.

“Stop,” he gasps. “Stop, stop, Ryan.”

“What?” Ryan demands, slowing down but still moving.

Gavin yanks his wrist free and they both pause. 

“I’m gonna throw up,” he insists, and Ryan stills and turns to look at him. They’re both breathing heavily after running so far and so fast. Ryan in particular is gasping shallowly, favouring his side, and now that they’ve finally stopped he leans back against a nearby shed with a groan. Gavin’s eyes scan over him in concern but a moment later he turns away and starts gagging and retching as he doubles over, choking for breath between horrible dry heaves.

Ryan stares at him. He reaches out as though to pound Gavin on the back but then lowers his hand, seeming to think better of it.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks instead.

It takes Gavin a moment to answer.

“I feel really sick,” he croaks, and then gives a last lurching cough before gulping a few times, struggling to recover himself. “Oh God. That was close. Okay, that’s staying down apparently.”

Ryan frowns.

“How hard did you hit your head?” he asks, a bit awkwardly. “If you feel nauseous it might be a concussion.”

“Pretty hard. It still hurts a lot,” Gavin complains. He keeps pushing on his stomach like he wants to throw up and get it over with. “But Michael said I was okay-”

Ryan stiffens, straightening up.

“Let me check too,” he demands, and moves in front of Gavin, pushing him to lean back against the shed. Gavin seems so surprised that he goes limp and lets himself be manhandled, Ryan turning his face this way and that, fingers trailing lightly over the wound on the side of his head with surprising gentleness, drawing back immediately when Gavin flinches. He goes so far as to get his phone out, turn the flash on, and start shining it in Gavin’s eyes. 

“Think you’re fine,” he eventually says, a little gruffly. His hand is still inspecting the little cut where Gavin grazed his head on the wall. “Just anxious and stressed. Can make you feel sick sometimes.”

“Plenty of that going around,” Gavin mutters - and then looks up, something fierce in his eyes as he says, “Michael wouldn’t tell me I’m fine if I’m not.”

Ryan stiffens.

“I’m sure we all thought he wouldn’t sell us out to the police too-”

“There has to be a _reason_ ,” Gavin cuts in, desperately. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t like he just turned on us, he wouldn’t just _do_ something like that-”

Ryan grabs his shoulders, leaning in close.

“Except he _did_ ,” he insists. “He did, he _did_ , you can’t keep denying it-”

Gavin reaches up and grips the front of his shirt, scowling now even if his voice is frantic and almost panicked.

“This isn’t you Ryan. This still isn’t you,” he pleads. With Ryan’s mask gone now he has free reign to stare at the other’s face, at every little twitch of the muscles in his jaw as he keeps it tightly clenched, struggling not to give anything away. “It’s you not being you again. In the past you… you would never have just written him off like this. You would have wanted to find out why and then… then you’d _forgive_ him-”

Ryan scoffs mockingly - but it’s too deliberately loud, too forced, and Gavin's face clouds over. He shoves the other man off him.

“It’s you not being you again,” he repeats, and shoulders past him angrily, starting to march off.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Ryan demands, turning after him.

Gavin stops, back to him, shoulders shaking for a moment as he gathers himself. When he speaks again his voice is thick and upset and it makes Ryan stiffen too.

“I don’t know,” he says, and promptly sits down on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“My head hurts,” he says again, shakily, “And you’re all… you’re all being _horrible_ , and I can’t believe you and Geoff just turned on Jack back there.”

“Complaining about it won’t get us anywhere,” Ryan says sternly - but he sounds worried, and he steps towards Gavin again, glancing back towards the warehouse. “We need to move.”

“I don’t want to move,” Gavin insists, a bit childishly. He hugs his knees and shakes his head, sniffing. “I don’t… I don’t want to _do this_ any more.”

There’s a frozen pause, and then he adds, in a very small voice, “I am so, so _tired_.”

Ryan’s face softens a little.

“Gav,” he begins quietly, but Gavin just shakes his head again. For all that he doesn’t have a head injury, his eyes are distant and unfocused now, jumping from thought to thought - and whatever he settles on makes his lips tremble and his face grow upset.

“He couldn’t have done it,” he says, voice very thick. “Not Michael, not _Michael_ -”

“Gavin…” Ryan crouches next to him but Gavin doesn’t even turn to look at him.

“He wouldn’t have done this,” he repeats, almost hysterically. “I can’t believe it, he wouldn’t hurt us, he wouldn’t hurt _me_ like this. There has to be something else, like… like they made him do it, or they tricked him-”

“He had a gun to Geoff’s head,” Ryan says, and then winces when that rather insensitive statement only makes Gavin let out a distressed sort of moan.

“No,” he insists. “It couldn’t - it couldn’t…. it _couldn’t_ -”

He seems on the brink of falling back into his previous catatonic state - but breaks off when Ryan abruptly seizes him by the shoulders. Startled, Gavin stares up at him - and his eyes widen at the look on Ryan’s face.

For all his harsh words, for all that he’s kept up such a mask of anger and cold acceptance - without his actual physical mask there to protect him, it’s clearly visible on his face that he’s barely holding it together as well. That this has hurt him deeply too - so deeply that he’s falling back on his usual defences, his usual disguise in some desperate attempt to keep from falling apart.

For a moment they just stare at each other. Then Ryan tugs Gavin in against his shoulder and Gavin grips at his shirt, breathing heavily but calming a little in Ryan’s arms. Everything’s gone to shit and nothing is okay but here and now - no matter how much unfinished business there still is even between just the two of them - they take a moment just to breathe. God knows they both need it.

-

“Geoff!” Jack cries abruptly, and seizes the other man’s shoulder.

“What?” Geoff demands, turning around. They’ve had to pull around and cross the bay towards the cliffs after seeing police on the shore they were previously going towards.

“I just saw Ray,” Jack says, and Geoff freezes, stilling the boat, turning to look in the same direction. There’s nothing but the empty cove but in the dark every shape looks like a shadow. “I swear, Geoff, I just saw him moving along the beach. We gotta go pick him up.”

Geoff doesn’t hesitate before he nods and swings the boat around. In the darkness they can see the warehouse lit up with flashing lights in the distance and they’re still mindful of choppers. But still they cut across the open water, heading for the cliffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to everyone who worked it out correctly :') (and even those who did not, all your theories were amazing and I had so much fun seeing everyone's different interpretations <3)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wardens-oath on tumblr made [a fantastic fanmix for this story](http://8tracks.com/caketin/what-comes-first). Thank you so much! <3

Michael and Ray stumble across the beach, holding each other up, heading for the dark shadows under the part of the pier that stretches over the sand. When they finally get there they collapse onto the damp ground. It’s wet but they’re both soaked already anyway, automatically pressing in against each other for warmth. It’s so dark under here they can barely see each other, and Ray pulls his phone out of his pocket before throwing it away in disgust. Ruined, as expected.

“You saved me,” Michael chokes out then. They’re the first proper words he’s spoken since Ray pulled him out of the water - his voice is rasping, his throat wrecked from swallowing then coughing up so much water.

Ray turns, squinting to see him in the dim light.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, and Michael starts to answer before breaking into another coughing fit. Ray rubs his back and Michael recovers himself before turning back to him.

“Bullet grazed me,” he says, reaching up and touching the side of his head. “Knocked me off the pier and I hit the water head first. From that height it kinda shocked me and then I got a lungful of water and it’s all downhill from there. But Ray,” he insists - and there’s confusion in his voice now - “You _saved_ me. Where the fuck did you come from?”

“I saw you fall in,” Ray replies, and scoffs out a humourless little laugh. “Couldn’t just leave you.”

“But _why_?” Michael insists.

“That’s what I should be asking you!” Ray still doesn’t sound angry, but there’s something a little tense in his voice as he adds, “Why did the police turn on you? Weren’t you working together?”

Michael doesn’t answer. There’s a long, silent pause, nothing but their heavy breathing in the darkness and the gentle mist streaming from each of their mouths in the cold.

“You should go,” Michael says finally. “Get out of here before the cops come back. Unless you only pulled me out of the water to kill me.”

“What?” Ray demands, startled. “God, Michael, no! That’s not why I saved you. But if _you_ want to run now,” he adds, and there’s something hesitant in it, but genuine. “If you want to leave, I… I won’t stop you.”

Michael swallows hard.

“Why are you like this?” he asks again, and Ray lets out a soft little sigh.

“Because,” he says tiredly, “I ran once too.”

“Not after selling everyone out.”

“I hate that phrase,” Ray snaps suddenly, “It makes it sound like you did it for money. But it wasn’t for money, was it, Michael?”

Michael pulls away from him then, settling back against the cliff wall and pulling his knees up to his chest. Ray lets him go, sitting back on his own haunches, straining to see him in the darkness.

“At first it was,” Michael murmurs, and Ray goes very still and stiff.

“What?” he whispers, and it’s Michael’s turn to laugh now, quiet and bitter.

“This is number ten, actually,” he says. “The tenth crew I’ve screwed over. Didn’t give a fuck about any of the others, though. Not like this one.”

“I don’t understand,” Ray insists.

It takes a long moment for Michael to continue. But Ray doesn’t push, just waits in silence until Michael finally sighs.

“You left,” he says. “Then Gavin left. Then Ryan. Then Geoff disbanded the crew, and the rest of us split up. Jack started working with Burnie. Geoff continued running his empire with B-Team, although Kdin and Lindsay went back to Burnie soon after that. So we’re all off doing our own thing. And word gets around, you know, that the FAHC isn’t together any more. It wasn’t hard for me to find jobs. Big name in explosives, y’know.”

Ray just nods. Michael sighs then, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“Anyway. I was working around, doing different things, except a few months in a job goes wrong and the entire crew I was with got got by the police, including me.”

“What?” Ray asks, straightening up. “I didn’t hear anything about that. That’d blow up in the news, the ACPD managing to snag one of the Fake AH Crew.”

“Let me finish,” Michael says. “There’s this young detective they’ve got working for them now. He came in to talk to me first. Real cunning guy, they just brought him in from out of town. He’d heard all about how Geoff disbanded us and I guess he thought he could get more out of me if I was free. He suggested I could make more money by working as a plant in other crews and fucking over a lot of the people we dislike in AC. You know how it is - you’ve seen them. There’s a reason the FAHC was so enclosed. The other gangs aren’t like us. You know that. It’s why you worked on your own for so long.”

Ray can only nod. It’s true.

“They don’t care about anyone else,” he murmurs, and Michael nods.

“Exactly. They’re all just in it for themselves. And I mean, we steal and kill too but a lot of other people are so much worse. So I thought, why the fuck not. The police here aren’t great but there are no good guys in Achievement City. And it did pay well - _very_ well. Made it more bearable to have to be working with such shitty people knowing they were about to get what was coming to ‘em.”

Ray is staring at him, but Michael doesn’t look at him. Just stares straight ahead into the dark water, hugging his knees.

“The last two years I’ve spent with a bunch of different crews. Pretty routine. Join them for a heist, learn the plan, then rat ‘em out to the police. No one ever guesses it’s me because I take normal jobs in between. Sometimes I’d get arrested too but they’d let me escape before bringing me in. Keeps suspicions down, y’know? So that’s how it started. Except not all the police know about it - very few do, in fact - so that’s why they shot me down back there. Guess I just got used to doing it.”

He falls silent and Ray shifts on the sand, face unreadable.

“And then what?” he asks. “Why this? Why would you turn on _us_? We’re not like everyone else.”

Michael doesn’t answer. The silence is cold, uncomfortable, and Ray reaches out and pokes his arm.

“Michael,” he says, but still gets no response. He grabs Michael’s arm and shakes him a little. “Michael, _please_ , I have to know. A cop fucking shot me in the shoulder back there, you at least owe me an explanation.”

Michael swallows hard. His voice is ragged when he speaks again.

“It had been two years,” he cries. “And I was so, so _fucking angry_. Two fucking years, Ray - it’s easy to distort everything in your head in that time.”

He reaches up, tugging agitatedly at his hair.

“When Geoff called us all back in I was… I was so mad. That he thought he could just act like nothing had ever happened, just bring us back like it was all tippy toppers! It fucking _infuriated_ me and I… I guess, in my head over the last two years, I’d built it all up like you were just like the rest of the people in Achievement City. Like Geoff was just another asshole mob boss and you were all as corrupt as the rest. It’s stupid, I know. But I was just so angry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“ _Was_ ,” Ray latches onto, and Michael finally glances over at him. He smiles a bit, humourlessly, though it’s hard to see in the dark.

“When I actually saw you all in person,” he says, slowly. “It was… hard. Seeing you after so long I started to remember that you weren’t like everyone else. Never had been. But I tried to stay cold - to keep in mind just how much you’d all fucking hurt me. It wasn’t easy though, and when everything went wrong and we were all trapped I was like, well fuck, what am I meant to do now? I thought the police might still find us… but then I started to hope that they wouldn’t. Especially when I saw how cut up you all were about everything that’d happened. It was really fucking obvious that everything that happened wasn’t malicious. No one broke us up deliberately. Not even Jack. And Ryan… God, Ryan. He’s hard to look at, man. He’s so different now. I know he and Gavin left but I… I can see now, that they just didn’t want to get hurt more by staying. Same with you.”

Ray lets out a breath and Michael looks over at him again.

“I dunno,” he says. “It’s hard to hurt people you... you _care_ about, when you actually have to _see_ them. When it’s not just me making a phone call and then slipping away and not watching it play out.”

“You regret it,” Ray says softly, and Michael stiffens, looking away.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he replies. “This time it’s me who ruined everything.”

“Don’t say that-”

“You think Geoff’s not gonna kill me for this? For working with the fucking pigs?”

“He would never kill you,” Ray snaps, but Michael’s laughing now, little hysterical huffs.

“Then what,” he says, and turns to Ray with a mocking sneer. “ _Forgive_ me?”

Ray’s lips press together tightly. Michael just stares at him, chin tilted defiantly up - but Ray doesn’t look away.

“It’s not just about _us_ forgiving _you_ ,” he says firmly, after a moment. “We hurt you too. We’re at fault as well.”

“I sold you out, Ray, it’s a bit more extreme than a break up when we weren’t even _together_ -”

“You made a mistake,” Ray cuts in, still sounding so certain of what he’s saying. “We all make mistakes.”

Michael’s eyes widen a bit, but he shakes his head again a second later.

“Other people’s mistakes didn’t nearly get us all killed,” he points out. “Even now, where are the others? What will you do,” he adds then, nearly a sneer, “If the police shot Gavin?”

Ray stiffens.

“Don’t say that,” he snaps. “Gavin’s fine.”

Michael just shakes his head. He keeps pressing, something almost frantic in it. Like he’s trying to push Ray as far as he can.

“Where is he then? I saw Ryan running off. You’re here with me. You told me on the way over here that Jack and Geoff got out. So where the hell is Gav?”

“He’s fine,” Ray insists, “I’m sure he’s fine. He can take care of himself.”

“What will you _do_ , Ray? If he’s dead - could you forgive me for that? I know I couldn’t.” He hugs his knees tighter - Ray’s just staring at him, looking stricken - but after a moment Michael scoffs. “It doesn’t matter. Dead or not, it’s still all fucked up. Bet they all hate me now.”

Ray’s face softens a little.

“I don’t hate you,” he says. Michael shoots him a disbelieving look and he scoots closer, insisting, “I don’t! Like you said - in two years away I can see why it could be easy for you to… to forget what we had. To see it all differently in your mind. Especially after what happened. And hell, Michael, I left first - I _hurt you_ first - so I can’t talk about abandoning people. But even though I choseto go, it still hurt so much to be away from you all. So I can’t even imagine how much worse it must’ve been for you to have everyone leave. So no matter what the others say, _I_ don’t hate you. You’re still my best friend, I don’t fucking care if we haven’t seen each other in two years. And I won’t let them hurt you.”

Michael just stares at him, then swallows hard, looking on the verge of tears.

“Maybe you should,” he chokes out, and Ray looks stricken, gripping the other man’s arm again.

“Don’t say that,” he says firmly. Michael looks down at his hand on his arm, but Ray doesn’t let go. He takes a deep breath and continues, “After I left - when I heard the crew’d disbanded - I hated myself for what I did. But we’ve held onto all that for too long now. We all fucked up in our own ways. We need to let go of everything - _all_ of us. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ve ruined everything. Either way, I missed you so much and I… I can’t lose you again. I can forgive you. I think Gavin will too. But what do I know,” he adds, a little embarrassed then as he starts to let go of Michael’s arm. “Maybe _you_ hate _me_ -”

“I don’t,” Michael cuts in, and grabs his hand before he can pull away. His voice is a desperate choke and even in the dark it’s obvious he’s trying not to cry. “I don’t hate you, Ray. I never could.”

“Good,” Ray says softly, and squeezes his hand back. 

Suddenly Michael’s face is washed over in light and he squints, flinching back. Ray turns, surprised, and throws up his own arm to shield his eyes as he notices the boat coming directly towards them, flooding the space beneath the pier with light. Startled, the two of them scramble up - pulling out their guns - standing side by side as the boat approaches.

-

The sound of a chopper has Gavin and Ryan pulling awkwardly back away from each other. Ryan grabs Gavin and yanks him back against the side of one of the sheds as the helicopter flies overhead, a little beacon of flashing red and blue in the steadily darkening night sky.

“We need to go,” Ryan hisses, once it vanishes into the distance.

“Where are we going?” Gavin whispers back.

Ryan hesitates.

“Find a car,” he says. “Then...”

He trails off, but there’s something a little unsure in it, like he knows what he wants to say but can’t bring himself to actually get the words out. Gavin’s eyes narrow a little.

“What’s your plan?” he asks, and Ryan bites his lip.

“I’m gonna leave,” he says, scuffing his boot along the ground. “Get out of here, as far away as possible. Everything went so badly to shit… I don’t think I want to see any of you again after this.”

There’s something tight and careful in his voice and Gavin’s face crumples a little before he turns away, valiantly trying to school his expression into something stiff and blank. Ryan’s looking away too, not meeting his eyes, and there’s a long, uneasy pause before Ryan finally lets out a sigh.

“But I’m not gonna leave right now,” he says, and turns towards Gavin. The other man still has his back turned. “I gotta take you back to the safe house. I assume that’s where the others are all going. You should text Geoff that you’re with me and we’re heading back. He’s probably worried.”

“Did they get out?” Gavin asks quietly, without looking at him.

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “I saw them.”

“Okay,” Gavin says, and pulls his phone out, still turned away as he types. Ryan lets out a little sigh and leans back against the shed wall, lifting his shirt up to prod at his ribs again, then inspecting a scrape on his elbow from where he fell down the concrete stairs. He’s nursing his bruises when Gavin turns back around and catches him looking at the mess on his chest. Something like guilt flashes across his face.

“Are you hurt Ryan?” he asks quietly, and Ryan drops his shirt quickly.

“Cops shot me earlier. Body armour took the brunt of it.”

Gavin inches forward, lips twisting unhappily.

“I kicked you too though,” he begins, but Ryan shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he assures him, and gives a little smirk. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried-”

“Don’t say that,” Gavin cuts in, not buying it. “I did though. I still hit you and all.” He hesitates, swallowing, and then adds, “I’m sorry.”

“Gav…”

“I wish we hadn’t fought.” Gavin rubs his hands over his face, sighing. “I… I thought it wasn’t you under there, and when it was I got angry, but… it wasn’t good of me, to attack you like that. So I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ryan’s blank face is slipping a little now, something very small and sincere in his voice as he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I did technically hit you first though,” Gavin points out, but Ryan shakes his head.

“No, I… I’ve been cruel to you, and I shouldn’t have. No matter what happened between us two years ago there was no call for me to get so rough with you. You’re right, I might have taken on the Vagabond again but that doesn’t mean I have to be a brute to people that I…”

He trails off, flustered like he’s revealed too much, but Gavin just nods and then looks away.

“I saw you with Ray,” he says hesitantly. “It seemed like you two were really close again. Like you… you were letting him see you. The proper you.”

“Yeah,” Ryan murmurs, and Gavin turns to him, something a little shy in it.

“Will you two stay together?” he asks softly, and Ryan shifts uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” he says, and pushes off the shed wall then. “Come on, we gotta go before they come after us.”

Gavin nods and trails along after him. There’s something very heavy and awkward between them now. Like Ryan’s not quite got his mask on, but isn’t entirely letting it down now either. Like Gavin wants to reach out but is scared to push. Like both of them have things they need to resolve, but are afraid to broach the topics. Too much left unsaid. For now they walk on, a little distance apart.

-

“Ray,” Geoff calls out. “It’s us.”

Ray and Michael, squinting in the headlights of the boat, relax visibly, lowering their raised weapons, shoulders slumping in relief. The boat has pulled up a little way out from the pier, but both Jack and Geoff clamber out, splashing through the shallows until they reach the space under the boardwalk. They both freeze when their eyes fall on Michael beside Ray.

Geoff’s face clouds over. He pulls his gun out but Jack grabs his arm.

“Geoff,” he warns.

Geoff shakes him off, glaring at Michael, who stares back at him with a blank, tired expression. Geoff’s eyes dart to the gun in Michael’s hand, hanging down by his side, before his gaze flicks to Ray with a scowl.

“You didn’t take his fucking gun?” he demands, and Ray straightens up, annoyed.

“Of course not,” he snaps back. “Geoff, you gotta calm down. He explained to me.”

“What’s there to explain?” Geoff says, and turns to Michael. “Did you fucking sell us out or not?”

“I did,” Michael says, but sounds very tired. He starts to move and Geoff’s weapon snaps up in alarm - but Michael just puts his own gun on the ground and kicks it over to him. He raises his hands slowly. “Do what you want.”

“Michael…” Ray starts, but Michael just glances at him and gives a small smile.

“It’s fine, Ray.”

Geoff bends and snatches up Michael’s gun, flicking the safety on before shoving it into his belt. Jack taps his arm and he turns.

“We need to go,” Jack says urgently. “Gotta get back to the safehouse before they start searching the water.”

Geoff opens his mouth but before he can say anything his phone buzzes in his pocket. Still keeping his gun trained on Michael, he fumbles with his other hand and manages to get his phone out and switch it on. He barks out a startled, relieved laugh.

“Gavin’s fine,” he says, and Ray perks up instantly, Jack too. Michael closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. “He’s with Ryan. They got out.”  
  
“Oh thank God,” Jack says, reaching up and rubbing his hands over his face. “We keep cars in a lot near here. If we sail around the cliffs we can get to them.”

Geoff nods. “Great. You coming, Ray, or are you…”

He trails off, the unspoken _leaving again_ hanging between them - but Ray nods instantly.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Geoff smiles a bit, but it fades when he turns to Michael and points to him sternly.

“And you - you’re not fucking going anywhere except with us.”

“Geoff,” Ray begins again, but Geoff holds a hand out, stopping him.

“Shut up,” he says, and Ray’s mouth snaps shut. “I’ll deal with this.”

Michael just raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t resist when Geoff grabs his wrist and yanks him towards him - or when he points the gun to his back and, still gripping his arm, marches him back towards the boat. They have to splash through knee high water to get there and when they reach it Michael clambers in first, Geoff pointing the gun at him the whole time.

Ray and Jack exchange a worried glance, but neither of them say anything as they quickly follow.

-

The dark streets of Achievement City flash by through the car windows as Ryan and Gavin pull away from the bay district and towards the inner west and the safe house. By now they feel quite safe, everything left far behind them. But the silence is very awkward, neither of them having said a word, until Gavin reaches out and turns the heater up. When he settles back into his seat he glances over and looks at Ryan, who’s determinedly concentrating on the road.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, so softly that even in the silent car it’s barely audible.

But Ryan doesn’t miss it. He stiffens, then cautiously glances over at Gavin.

“You already said that,” he points out slowly, and Gavin shifts in his seat, wrapping his arms around himself.

“No, I mean for leaving the first time,” he says. “For going to England. I didn’t mean to abandon you, I was just… scared.”

Ryan is silent a moment. But then he nods.

“I was scared too,” he says quietly. “I left as well.”

Gavin stares at him, teeth worrying at his lip.

“I wasn’t very okay after going,” he admits, and Ryan sighs.

“Neither was I, Gav.”

“You did heaps of jobs, though.”

“I know,” Ryan says, and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s part of the problem.” He pauses, hesitant, then admits, “There are masks we wear to defend ourselves, you know that. The Vagabond’s mine. I fell back on it because I was so hurt, but I definitely wasn’t okay. And when we first came back it… it was hard for me to see you again. You look so different. I guess we’re all older now.”

Gavin reaches up and scratches at his beard, then runs his fingers through his dark hair. He looks over at Ryan, unmasked now and, while the same person underneath, still so different. Hair longer now and bearded too. 

“You’re gonna go back to all that now, though, aren’t you?” he says. “That’s what you said you were planning.”

“Michael betrayed us,” Ryan says tightly. “We-”

“We don’t know why,” Gavin insists. “I… I think we can get over it. It was really, really hard coming back. But after seeing you all again… I don’t think I could lose you twice. If I’d never come back at all maybe I’d have eventually gotten over it. But now… I can’t leave again, I think. I can’t go through that again.”

Ryan’s watching the road again but listening to him intently. Some upset washes over his face at those words, and after a minute, he murmurs, “I think I might be the same.”

Gavin looks at him cautiously, then away again. He reaches out and turns the heat up a bit more, huddling back in his seat. 

There’s a long silence. They reach a busy road and pull up at a light.

“Do you hate me, Ryan?” Gavin pipes up, tentatively.

Ryan stiffens, glancing at him in surprise. Gavin is staring out the window and Ryan looks away as well.

“No, Gavin,” he replies - quiet but sincere. “I don’t hate you at all.”

Gavin steals a glance at him before looking away again.

“In fact,” Ryan continues, “You’re the one who was screaming that you hate all of us back there.”  
  
“I was, wasn’t I,” Gavin muses. “I was so upset. Bit dramatic of me, wasn’t it?”

Ryan’s lips twitch. After a second he snorts - and then Gavin starts laughing too, and soon both of them are chuckling away. Maybe there’s something a bit hysterical in it, but everything is so fucked up that it’s laugh or cry about it at this point.

When he recovers himself, Gavin turns to Ryan with a genuine sort of smile.

“Thanks for getting me out of there.”

“I was hardly about to just leave you.”

“I suppose,” Gavin muses.

Ryan snorts again. “Geoff would’ve had my head. He cares a lot about you, even now.” He pauses, then adds, “You should stay with him.”

“I might,” Gavin replies. “If he wants me to.”

“Trust me, he wants you to.”

Gavin smiles a bit, then sighs.

“We were really close to being something,” he says. “Back then. I mean, we all were, but Geoff and I especially. I was really excited about it, the day of that last heist. But then things just went so wrong.”

The mention of the heist has made Ryan’s smile fade.

“Do we have to talk about this,” he says stiffly, and Gavin shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Not talking about it didn’t help.”

He drops the topic, though, and they fall into another silence. The traffic eases up and they start to move again, Ryan turning out into the quieter suburban lanes as they head off towards the safehouse.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin says again then, and Ryan sighs a bit.

“Stop apologising.” It’s not angry or even stern, but Gavin bites his lip anyway.

“But it’s all my fault.”

“What?” Ryan glances over at him. “No it’s not.”

“You kept saying it was before.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ryan replies firmly. “The break down is on all of us. What happened here tonight is on Michael though.”

Gavin looks a bit sad at that.

“You’re really mad at him, aren’t you,” he begins, but pauses when Ryan looks over at him again, the other man’s face more open and honest than it has been all night. It’s not anger but raw hurt in his face, and Gavin seems to understand. He sighs again.

“Please don’t look at this situation like you’re the Vagabond still,” he says. “That’s not who you are. I know it’s a defence thing - an act - but show time’s over now. It’s so late and we’re all so tired. We can’t act any more. I think… I think since we got here we’ve all been pretending a bit, but underneath we’re all still the same. And that means Michael’s the same too; it’s still _him_ , no matter what he’s done. I talked to him, in the warehouse - I can see. He’s still in there. It’s been two years,” he continues, “And we didn’t move on at all. That’s part of the problem, but I think… I think that’s also why we can fix it.”

Ryan stares at him, eyes wide, and Gavin looks a little embarrassed, but pushes on.

“When we all met up again I thought things were broken. That we didn’t fit together like we used to. But we do, we can - if we let ourselves, I think we… we can sort this out. Like… no matter how mixed up it gets, you can always sort out a jigsaw puzzle, right? As long as all the pieces are still there.”

Ryan is quiet for a long moment. Then he gives a little scoff.

“Very metaphorical of you,” he says, but it’s not mocking, and Gavin smiles a bit.

“We deal with things in different ways,” he says. “I hurt you before, when we fought, but I… I really regret it now. And I think that Michael maybe regrets hurting us too. Or I hope he does, at least. I don’t think I could cope with it if he doesn’t.”

“You could,” Ryan says quietly. “You’re strong.”

“Not strong enough to stay, back then,” Gavin scoffs. “But I can’t run away like I used to now. I can’t be alone again.”

“Not even with Dan?"

Ryan’s obviously joking but Gavin gives a fond little smile.

“He did help a lot. I was a bit of a mess when I got back.”

“Me too,” Ryan admits, and sighs a little. “But we’re gonna be okay now.”

Gavin glances at him, startled.

“What?” he asks. “That’s… that’s a bit of a turnaround from you after everything else you’ve said tonight.”

“Ray makes me believe it,” Ryan says, with a little smile. “And… and being with you now makes me believe it too. But we’ll see,” he adds quickly, “Let’s just get back to the safe house now and see where the others are. What’s going on. And,” he adds, a bit darkly, “What Michael has to say for himself.”

“Okay,” Gavin says quietly.

Another silence falls. It’s not as awkward now, but they both seem deep in thought, Michael on their minds among everything else. Whatever he’s thinking about, after a moment Gavin huddles in on himself in his seat, starting to look upset again and struggling to hide it - but Ryan glances over at him and after a second he hesitantly offers his hand. Gavin stares at it, then at him, as though wondering if it’s some trick - but after a second he reaches out and grasps it, and they continue on, driving through the night, holding onto each other in some silent reassurance.

-

On the other side of the bay, the others are also driving, making their way back around. Jack is at the wheel, but he’s distracted, glancing continually at the rear view mirror where Geoff and Michael are in the backseat. Geoff’s still pointing his gun at the other man.

Ray, riding shotgun, slowly takes his jacket off. He’s shivering hard now, both he and Michael still in their clammy wet clothes, the smell of the bitter bay water starting to spread through the car, especially with the heater on.

“You alright Ray?” Jack asks quietly, and Ray nods, glancing worriedly back at Michael. He’s huddled up in his seat, trying to stifle his continuing coughs.

“You okay, Michael?” he says, and Michael nods, wiping at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he croaks out. His voice still sounds hoarse. “Just sucked in a shitload of water down there.”

Geoff glances at him warily, but Michael barely looks back at him before looking out the window with a little sigh. He’s still wet and shaking as well, and Ray looks at him for a moment before biting his lip.

“Put the gun down Geoff,” he pleads, but Geoff shakes his head.

“No,” is all he says.

“Just let him explain-”

“I don’t want to hear it yet,” Geoff snaps. “Just leave it, Ray. I’m gonna deal with this when we get back to the safehouse.”

Ray sighs a little, but turns back around. Jack is just shaking his head slowly and Michael gives a tight, humourless smile before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window.

-

It’s dark by the time they pull into the driveway of the safe house. There is something heavy and exhausted about the night, like a stifling blanket weighing down on all of them. But Jack smiles when they arrive and find another car there already.

“The others are back,” he says, and Ray cracks a grin too.

Gavin is sitting out on the porch waiting for them. He rises when they arrive, hurrying over, and as Ray gets out of the car Gavin moves to meet him, pulling him into a tight hug. Ray lets out a little startled noise, but quickly hugs him back.

“You okay Vav?” he asks, and Gavin nods.

“I’m fine. I’m glad you got out alright! You’re bleeding,” he adds then, pulling back and touching Ray’s shoulder gently. Ray just smiles.

“I’m fine,” he assures him.

The door to the house opens and Ryan steps out just as Jack gets out of the car as well. He smiles a bit when he sees the others, but his eyes meet Jack’s awkwardly and it fades as he looks away. Jack doesn’t look at him long, turning to pull Gavin into a hug as well, so it’s Ray who moves forward to meet Ryan.

“Alright?” he asks quietly, and Ryan nods. He reaches out and strokes a hand down Ray’s cheek before turning to the car. Everyone freezes as Geoff pushes Michael out, then grabs his arm again, still pointing the gun at him. Ryan goes very stiff and Ray puts a hand on his arm.

“Geoff,” Gavin begins quietly. He’s staring at Michael, stricken - Michael glances back at him, face unreadable, before stumbling a bit as Geoff starts pushing him towards the house.

“Everyone get inside,” Geoff orders, and frogmarches Michael in before anyone can answer. Ray quickly hurries after him, leaving Jack, Ryan and Gavin standing in the front yard.

“You two alright?” Jack asks, and Gavin nods.

“We got out okay. They didn’t follow us I think,” he says, and Jack smiles a bit. He pats Gavin on the back as the other man rushes into the house after Geoff, and then turns to Ryan, who’s still staring at him, something stiff and awkward in his face.

“I’m sorry about what happened before,” Ryan begins hesitantly. “I thought-”

“It’s fine, Ryan,” Jack cuts in, distracted by glancing up at the house. “We can talk about it later.”

Ryan looks a bit pained, but nods, the two of them heading inside in silence.

-

The second they enter the house Geoff practically throws Michael down onto the couch. He grunts a little, steadying himself, before sitting up and staring at the others as they file in - Geoff at the front of them all, arms folded, glaring down at him. Michael just looks at them, something guarded in his eyes. He looks vulnerable and a little pathetic with his hair still plastered wet to his head and his clothes clinging to him.

“Explain,” Geoff orders.

“What’s there to say,” Michael replies, wearily.

“Michael.” Ray steps forward then, but stops at a glare from Geoff. “Tell them what you told me before.”

Michael looks around at them all again. There’s something pleading in Gavin’s face where he’s watching with wide eyes from the sidelines. Jack’s watching too, less overtly desperate but still pained and upset. Ryan’s face is hard and he’s got his arms folded too, but without his mask on it’s obvious how miserable he is. After a moment Michael sighs.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

And he tells them, in nearly exactly the same words as he told Ray. Haltingly, not looking at them now - but not defensive, either. Just very, very tired as he tells them about the other crews, and the detective, and how twisted up everything got in his head.

When he finally falls into silence, voice little more than a croak now, the others stand staring at him. Ryan’s face is hard still, cold and unreadable even if his eyes are red. Jack and Gavin, though, have softened, their shoulders slumped, no anger in their faces now.

And Geoff-

Geoff is staring at Michael with raw hurt in his eyes. Still angry, still holding his gun, but his shoulders shaking a little now as he seems to process the words.

Michael starts coughing again after a second. It takes him a few minutes to recover but when he does he looks up at Geoff and says, flatly, “I fucked up. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry, okay? I’m just glad you’re all okay.”

“You reconsidered what you’d done,” Ray brings up quietly, “When we were all trapped in the warehouse, though, right? You regretted it?”

Michael nods, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “When you all turned on Jack I… I knew I had to do something. That’s why I admitted it in the end there. But before that I thought we might just escape and I could plant some other evidence. Make like the safehouse had been bugged or something, so no one had to get hurt. But what’s the point of any of this?” he adds gruffly. “We’re all gonna split up again now anyway. So nothing matters any more.” He swallows, hard. “Nothing’s mattered for two years.”

Ryan looks away at that, upset, his arms uncrossing to wrap around himself instead. 

Michael turns to Jack and gives a small almost-smile.

“I’m sorry they turned on you,” he says, and Jack can only stare. After a second Michael sighs a bit, looking away again as he mumbles, “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

There’s a long pause, no one moving from where they stand. Everyone deep in thought. Finally Jack stirs, and turns to Geoff.

“What are you gonna do, Geoff?” he asks quietly, and Geoff’s hands rise, tearing at his hair.

“I’m thinking,” he says brusquely, but Gavin’s stepping forward now, moving to kneel on the floor in front of Michael, reaching out to him.

“It’s okay, my boi,” he says, and brushes his hand over Michael’s cheek where his eyes are starting to water. Michael doesn’t move away, and Gavin’s voice is hoarse too as he repeats, “It’s okay. We all messed up. I know… I know things look different when you’re so far away. When we haven’t seen each other in so long.”

He swallows hard and Michael closes his eyes briefly for a moment before looking at him again.

“And it would be hard to keep things straight in your head,” Gavin continues, “Since we never talked even once in those two years. I wish even after we split we could’ve stayed friends. Things might have turned out different. But we’re all here now,” he says, and turns towards the rest of them and repeats it, fiercely, “Look at us, we’re all still here. Even Ray.”

“I’m not leaving again,” Ray blurts out suddenly, and they all stiffen - especially Ryan, whose arms drop to his sides as he looks at Ray with wide eyes. Ray swallows, then repeats, more confidently, “I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay, if… if you want me to.”

Jack starts to smile a bit at that, but it’s Geoff who their eyes are all on. Geoff who is still so quiet, who’s glowering at Michael and hasn’t softened a bit. They give him questioning, expectant looks, still waiting for him to pass judgement, and after a moment he lets out a huff of breath.

“I’m gonna think about it,” is all he says.

Gavin looks upset. He stands up and starts towards Geoff.

“Geoff, _please_ ,” he begins, but Geoff reaches out and grabs his shoulder, cutting him off and stopping him getting any closer.

“I said,” he repeats, sternly. “I’ll think about it.”

-

-

-

**1 HOUR HOME**

Ryan stands in the bathroom alone, door locked behind him as his head rises, dripping, from the sink. He’s washed the rest of the paint and blood from his face now and his exhausted reflection stares back at him. He traces the bags under his eyes and gives a little sigh. Then digs into the small bag he’s brought with him and pulls out a razor.

As his beard slowly falls away from his face with each stroke, it seems to lift years off him. He looks less tired once it’s gone and his jaw is smooth again, the Ryan from two years ago - not the Vagabond, _Ryan_ \- staring back at him in the mirror now. After a second he reaches up and pulls his hair tie out, carding his fingers through the long strands before he picks up a pair of scissors as well.

-

Geoff is sitting at the table quietly eating a bowl of canned ravioli when Gavin enters, approaching him hesitantly. Geoff eyes him warily as he sits down next to him at the table, but Gavin just sets down his own sandwich and starts eating too, although he keeps darting little glances at Geoff.

“You’re upset,” he says after a few moments, and Geoff sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he sets his fork down.

“Michael pointed a fucking gun at my head. Yeah, I’m upset.”

“He wouldn’t have shot you,” Gavin begins, but Geoff just scoffs.

“When there’s a gun to your head, Gavin, you kinda get a bit worried that he might!” 

Gavin presses his lips together, looking away. Geoff sighs, then, and rubs at his eyes.

“I feel so betrayed,” he admits. “I know we all do but… it hit me really hard. This is _my_ crew that was sold out, it’s _my_ heist he fucked up. And he was… he was _Michael_ , you know? I _loved him_. And he did this to us!”

Gavin watches him, upset. He reaches out and rubs Geoff’s hand for a minute before pulling back.

“We did hurt him first,” he says quietly. “And you heard what he said. He regretted it once he’d done it.” He bites his lip, hesitant, then adds, “After I left for England I regretted leaving right away too, but I can’t undo that now. None of us can go back and change things. But what matters is that he seemed really sorry about it - even when we were trapped in that warehouse he seemed to be changing his mind. And he… he never wanted _us_ hurt. Only the ‘us’ that he had built up in his mind. And I think he sees that now.”

Geoff is silent, staring down into his bowl, mixing the sauce idly. Then he sighs.

“When did you get so wise?” he mutters, and Gavin lets out a startled little laugh. Geoff looks up at him then and smiles a bit. “Are you staying as well?”

“If you’ll have me,” Gavin says a bit shyly, and Geoff snorts.

“ _If I’ll have you_. ‘Course I’ll fucking have you! No one else gets you. Especially not Burnie, he stole enough of my employees already.”

Gavin smiles then, wide, and his little giggle is genuine. He sobers a little, though, looking around at the rest of the house. The others are all scattered about in other rooms.

“Is this what you hoped for?” he asks softly. “When you called us all back in. Not just the heist but… that we might stay. That we might be together again.”

Geoff swallows, then nods.

“Yeah, Gav,” he replies. “It is.”

“Good,” Gavin says, and folds his hand over Geoff’s again. “I think that’s what I wanted too.”

-

Michael sits alone in his room. He’s showered now and has dry clothes on, but the door is locked, the window too. Even so, he makes no move to escape. Just sits huddled on the floor between the bed and the nightstand, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, head hanging down. Picking at the loose threads in the carpet in front of him.

“God damn it,” he whispers eventually, and tugs viciously at a particular thread, wrapping it around his finger and pulling until it snaps. “God fucking damn it.”

There’s a noise outside the door and his head snaps up - but when it fades into silence he sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head thud back against the wall.

-

**2 HOURS HOME**

Jack is sitting out on the porch, alone. It’s a warm evening and the garden smells sweet like grass and pollen. The road ahead is dark and empty, the houses sleeping around them.

The door opens behind him and Ryan steps out. Jack can see him, standing in the doorway, reflected in the windscreen of the car in front of him. Normally when he lurks like that he seems like some dark spectre of death, but now he has no mask on, no jacket.

“Ryan,” Jack greets, turning towards him.

“Hey,” Ryan replies. 

“You shaved since I saw you before,” Jack notes, and Ryan smiles a bit, coming to sit next to him.

“I did. Your turn now,” he teases, reaching out to touch Jack’s beard. The other man laughs and bats his hand away.

“Go tell that to Gavin,” he says. “No one messes with my beard.”

Ryan smiles a bit. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and looks out across the garden. Jack is still and quiet beside him and after a moment Ryan sighs a little, looking over at him.

“Geoff and I were convinced it was you,” he says quietly. “But it… it hurt, to think that you might do that to us. I’m sorry that we jumped to conclusions. I know it seems awful but we couldn’t believe any one of us would’ve done it so it… it came down to who the most evidence pointed towards.”

Jack presses his lips together and Ryan leans forward, eyes pleading now.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Words can’t express how sorry I am. I’ve… I’ve been a total ass this whole time and I hurt you and Gavin too-”

He’s speaking quietly, voice cracking a little. It isn’t the affectedly deep growl that he puts on as the Vagabond. It’s the Ryan that they used to know, and Jack reaches up and strokes his smooth cheek.

“You’re here now,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. I turned on you and Gavin too. This whole incident just brought out the worst of us but I… I know you were just hurt and that’s why you lashed out.”

Ryan tentatively smiles and after a moment Jack smiles back and bumps their shoulders together. They sit for a peaceful quiet moment, listening to the crickets sing out around them.

“I missed you,” Jack says softly then. “I thought you’d come back. That’s why I broke us up, even when you didn’t want us to. But it was bad of me to do that to you. I shouldn’t have, not when I could see how much it was hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan replies, and sounds like he means it. “It’s all behind us now. Time to let it go.”

Jack nods.

“Don’t say that in front of Ray,” he adds quickly, and Ryan blinks a few times until he adds, “He’ll start singing that fucking Disney song-”

Ryan snorts, then reaches up to cover his mouth as he laughs. Jack starts chuckling too after a bit, the two of them grinning again, relaxed now as their shoulders brush together as they laugh.

-

Ray is sitting on the floor outside Michael’s door, eating a muesli bar. When Geoff wanders up he stands up, glancing cautiously at the door, then at the other man.

“Hey boss,” he says, warily, but Geoff’s attention is all on him.

“Did you mean it?” he asks. “That you’ll stay?”

Ray tenses a little, looking away, hands fisting nervously in the sleeves of his now dry hoodie.

“If you want me to,” he replies tentatively, and Geoff runs his hands through his hair, sighing.

“I never understood why you left,” he says. “You told me, when you rang, but I… I didn’t understand. But I think I do now. You were scared of exactly _this_ happening. Of losing things, falling apart, when we weren’t even together yet. But we were already in too deep. It hurt when you left. And then Ryan… Ryan got injured, and I know that shook you up. I was real fucking scared too. But this time, no one’s too badly hurt. We got out of this one okay. And we can’t waste that by throwing this chance away now.” He steps forward and Ray stares at him, eyes wide as he reaches out and gently touches the other man’s wrist before murmuring, “I really missed you, Ray.”

“I missed you too,” Ray replies immediately, and lets out a shaky sort of laugh. “I told you that I worked better alone but that’s a lie. Maybe I like being up on my own sniping but not _solo_ , not all the time. I… I really like being with you guys. I want to stay.”

Geoff smiles at him. Ray smiles back. They stand there in the hallway grinning at each other for a moment before Ray lifts his arms.

“Alright,” he says, “Bring it in.”

Geoff guffaws. “Oh my God. Why do you ruin every nice moment like that?”

“Sorry,” Ray replies, unconvincingly, then laughs when Geoff yanks him into a hug, squeezing him so tightly he actually coughs a few times before laughing again and squeezing the other man back.

-

**3 HOURS HOME**

Ryan walks up to the door. Ray’s still the one on guard, though he’s finished eating now and is silently playing on his DS. He looks up when Ryan clears his throat and does a double take.

“Look at you!” he exclaims. “What’ve you done to your face?”

“You don’t like it?” Ryan replies, rubbing at his jaw, and Ray hurriedly nods, then grows confused and shakes his head instead.

“No, I… it’s good. You look like you again.” He grins and Ryan smiles tentatively back. 

“Are you taking over on watch?” Ray asks, but Ryan hesitates.

“I thought I might talk to him actually.”

Ray’s smile fades and he reaches out, pressing Ryan’s arm.

“Ryan…”

“We won’t fight, I promise. I just want to talk,” Ryan assures him. Ray stares at him for a moment before nodding and stepping aside, but Ryan hesitates, turning to him.

“You’re really staying,” he says, and Ray nods, shuffling his feet.

“I am,” he says quietly, and glances up. “You?”

Ryan looks torn, and Ray squeezes his arm again.

“Please,” he whispers. “I know you’re scared. But it can’t work with just five. You saw that after I left. We need all of us. And I want you here.”

Ryan doesn’t reply. But he doesn’t look angry, or even closed off either. He just nods, obviously taking in Ray’s words, and takes hold of the other man’s hand, squeezing gently for a moment before he moves past him and unlocks the door, entering the room.

Ray sighs, closing his eyes as he leans back against the wall before sliding down to sit on the floor again.

-

“Jack,” Gavin calls out.

Jack pauses where he was making his way across the living room. He looks around until he finds Gavin peering over the back of the couch at him, and smiles a bit, moving to sit next to him.

“You doing alright?” he asks, and Gavin nods.

“I’m sorry I suspected you,” he blurts out. 

Jack just laughs a little, too tired, it seems, to be angry any more at this point.

“I suspected you too,” he replies. “We all just blamed each other. Big cluster fuck, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it,” Gavin insists, and Jack sighs, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“I know,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. It’s all okay now.”

Gavin still looks doubtful, but when Jack tugs at him he moves readily in, settling in against his chest as Jack strokes his back, an easy, comfortable hug. Perhaps forgiveness would not come so easily to most other crews after such an ordeal. But they are not other crews, and even after two years it’s _them_ , and it’s easy to fall back into the closeness they had before everyone left.

-

When Ryan shuts the door quietly behind him, Michael looks up. His eyes widen and he tenses when he notices who it is.

Ryan stares back at him, something speculative in his gaze. But then his face softens a little, and he steps closer, crouching down so Michael isn’t craning his neck to look at him.

“Thought it was time we talked,” he says, and Michael lets out a little huff.

“I’ve said all I can.”

“Then listen,” Ryan replies, and Michael falls silent. There’s something thoughtful in Ryan’s face as he shifts to sit down, leaning against the bed a little distance from Michael.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit working alone,” he says. “Both in the last two years and before I joined all of you. Met a lot of bad people. It’s why I… why I protect myself so much. Because I’ve seen how awful people can be, especially in our business.”

“So have I,” Michael murmurs. “It’s why I had no qualms about selling all those other crews out.”

“Exactly,” Ryan replies, and shifts, almost embarrassed now as he twists his hands in his lap. “And I’ve been thinking… I suppose when I came back for this job… I didn’t exactly give you many reasons to trust me, did I? The way I was behaving… it must’ve just fed into your ideas that we’d all changed.”

The look on Michael’s face is answer enough and Ryan sighs, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. Michael bites his lip and leans forward a bit.

“I don’t want to blame you,” he says. “But that… that’s kinda true. You were being so cold and then Gavin told me you’d hurt him and it was like… it let me keep believing that you weren’t who you used to be. That all this was justified. That I wasn’t actually betraying the people I used to… to _love_ , because they’d gone long ago. But then when we were trapped in the warehouse I realised they hadn’t gone anywhere at all.”

Ryan nods. He’s quiet a moment, lost in thought. Then he turns back to Michael and sighs.

“I’ve made some huge mistakes in my time,” he says quietly. “I’ve… hurt a lot of people. You asked me, before, if I thought we could come back from the things we do when we go too far. If there’s one thing you guys have shown me it’s that we can always find things to care about. Things that make it worth going on. But we need all six of us for this to work. And I want it to work. And I want things to be okay with youagain. But is that what _you_ want?”

“More than anything,” Michael whispers back, without even hesitating, and Ryan gives a small smile.

“Then we can get through this,” he begins, and turns towards Michael then only to pause when he realises how red the other man’s eyes are. “Shit, are you… are you okay?”

“I’m not crying,” Michael snaps, and rubs at his eyes. “Fucking contact lenses. Had them in too long.”

“Right,” Ryan says, but Michael still looks upset and after a moment he holds out an arm. Michael hesitates, glancing up at him uncertainly like he isn’t quite sure if this is some sort of trap. But Ryan just stares at him, and after a moment Michael inches out of his corner and leans in against the other man’s side. Ryan wraps an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close, and Michael lets his eyes slip shut, huddling in against him as Ryan rubs his arm soothingly.

-

**4 HOURS HOME**

It’s getting on to midnight and the lights have been turned down in the house, everything dark and quiet, when Geoff calls Ryan and Jack into the main room for a meeting. Michael’s still in his room, Gavin watching the door, and Ray’s off in the shower, the running water a faint soothing noise coming from down the hall. Like they’re home again now.

In the dim light of a single lamp they sit around the couches, exhaustion wearing all of them down now. Geoff looks at Jack, then Ryan, and gestures between them all.

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly.

It’s mostly directed at Jack, who nods immediately.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re good.”

Ryan nods too, and a relieved smile tugs at Geoff’s lips for a moment before he sighs.

“We need to talk about Michael. Ryan, you spoke to him, right?”

Ryan nods, but it’s Jack who pipes up next.

“I won’t bother him tonight. But I’m not mad at him, despite what happened. Annoyed that he went to that extreme, yes, but I don’t hate him. I’m just relieved we all got out okay. And I think he knows that, so I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Ryan is nodding as well, but Geoff frowns.

“Selling people out is serious,” he insists. “Working with the fucking police is _serious_ \- we could all have died back there!”

“This isn’t some leak we can just ‘take care of,’” Ryan says flatly. “This is _Michael._ Don’t forget that. It’s the same Michael we always knew.”

Jack nods. “There’s a time and place for you to be the leader, Geoff,” he says. “And Ramsey needs to crack down hard on shit like that, sure. But this isn’t about someone trying to screw us over for money. There’s also a time and place where we just need you to be _Geoff_.”

Geoff bites his lip. He looks less angry now and more worn down, exhausted. Jack’s face softens and he leans in and squeezes the other man’s knee.

“Right now, despite everything, we’re more okay with each other than we’ve been in weeks,” he says. “Just… think about that. Okay?”

Geoff doesn’t reply, just sighs and lowers his head to his hands, running his hands agitatedly through his hair. 

-

Michael is lying on the bed when Gavin slips into the room, though he’s not sleeping, just lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He turns his head when Gavin enters, and raises his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you meant to be making sure I don’t make some daring escape?”

“You’d escape out the window if you really wanted to,” Gavin replies. His voice is light and joking but oddly hesitant under that. “Did you eat yet?”

“Yeah, Ray brought me something.”

“Good.” Gavin comes right up by the side of the bed. “Um. I heard you nearly drowned earlier. You alright?”

“Alright as I can be,” Michael replies, and sits up a bit, squinting up at him. “I’m sorry about, you know. Selling you out and all that.”

“All good, boi. Like I said earlier. We’ve all done things. At first I… I couldn’t believe you’d do it, but after you explained… I get why. And I said it already but I’m sorry for running away to England.”

“That’s okay,” Michael replies, and smiles a bit. Gavin smiles back and makes a brief gesture towards the bed.

“Can I…”

Michael nods, scooting over, and Gavin clambers in next to him. It’s a squash for two grown men to fit in a single bed, and Gavin ends up huddled in against Michael’s side, one arm wrapped around his waist, head resting on his chest. Michael keeps an arm around his back to stop him falling off the mattress. He’s not the cuddliest person at the best of times but it’s obvious what Gavin needs right now, so he strokes a hand down his back, then through his hair.

“Thanks for sticking up for me earlier,” he adds, and Gavin stirs, peering up at him.

“I meant what I said,” he says. “I just want things to be okay from now on.”

Michael nods, and they fall into silence again. He traces an idle pattern over Gavin’s back. It’s a bit too warm on the bed here together but neither of them move, until Gavin finally sits up a bit.

“Remember how close we used to be?” he asks, and Michael smiles a bit.

“Course I do, boi.”

“I want to be like that again. Just try it all again like everything’s back to normal. It seems like Ryan and Ray are already trying to do that.”

“Seems like it’s going well for them,” Michael replies. His hand settles on Gavin’s hip and Gavin hesitates. There’s a funny still moment between them before Gavin starts to lean in. He gets so close that their lips nearly touch before Michael stops him with a hand to the chest.

“You can’t do that, Gav.”

“Why?” Gavin asks. He’s staring stupidly down at Michael, nearly cross eyed because of how close they are.

“Because. It’s been two years. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“But I still love you,” Gavin replies, and sounds so innocently confused that the hesitance on Michael’s face flickers and fades nearly in an instant. His fist wraps in the front of Gavin’s shirt and after taking a second to let the words sink in he yanks him down. Gavin makes a muffled little noise of surprise, but it quickly turns into a pleased sound. They’re both tired but the kiss is still a bit rough, a bit desperate after they’ve spent so long apart. Gavin braces himself over Michael and Michael keeps a hand on his waist to steady him. There’s two years’ worth of unfinished business behind it and when they break apart they’re both breathing heavily.

Michael looks a bit uncertain as reality seems to sink back in, but Gavin slumps down beside him and buries his face in his shoulder.

“I like you a lot Michael,” he informs him, and Michael huffs out a laugh.

“Even after everything?”

“Of course,” Gavin replies, and Michael smiles a bit, nestling his fingers in the other man’s hair.

“I like you a lot too, Gavvers.”

-

**5 HOURS HOME**

The house grows dark and silent as everyone retires to bed. Gavin has gone to his own room now and Michael is dozing off, half asleep, when the door opens again. He jolts awake, fumbling for his gun only to find it isn’t there.

“Relax,” Geoff’s voice rings out. “It’s just me.”

Michael does not relax. He does manage to find the switch for the lamp and turn it on, lighting up the room in a dim yellow glow as Geoff steps in and shuts the door quietly behind him.

“We need to talk,” Geoff says, and Michael just stares at him. His eyes search for a gun in Geoff’s hands and when the other man realises what he’s doing he looks horrified, raising his empty hands.

“Jesus Christ, dude, I’m not gonna kill you.”

“You pointed a gun at me before,” Michael says slowly, and Geoff pulls a face.

“I could say the same thing to you,” he points out, and Michael scoffs a bit.

“Fair enough.”

Geoff sighs, and leans back against the wall. Michael stays sitting up in bed, watching him. They stare at each other, both looking wrecked after this whole ordeal.

“You know why I’m so pissed, right?” Geoff asks finally. “I trusted you. I _loved_ you. And you were always the most loyal. So to find out that you would turn on us like that… it breaks me, Michael.”

“You’re right,” Michael replies, quietly. “I was the most loyal. And how did you repay that loyalty, Geoff? All of you, _all_ of you, didn’t seem to give a damn how I felt two years ago. The one who’s the most loyal gets the most hurt when the others abandon him.” There’s no anger in his voice, just something very tired. “I’ve told you I regret it. And I’m really, really sorry. So you can do what you want. But for the record, I was never gonna kill you back there. You were waving your gun around at Jack and I had to step in before something happened that we couldn’t fix. And I needed leverage, after that, to stop Ryan doing anything stupid. That’s why I grabbed you.”

“Okay,” is all Geoff says, still looking serious and thoughtful.

Michael sighs again.

“Like I said,” he repeats. “Do what you want.”

“I know what I want,” Geoff says quietly - and hesitates, then, before turning and leaving, seeming to have gotten as much as he wanted out of this interaction. Michael stares after him, looking a bit confused, before slowly lying back down again. He doesn’t switch off the light, just curls in on himself and rolls over to face the wall as the door shuts behind Geoff.

-

Ryan and Ray are sleeping on the couch together when Geoff quietly pads back into the main room on the way to his own bedroom. He pauses, watching them - the gentle rise and fall of Ryan’s chest; Ray curled up against his side, both of them snoring softly. A fond smile plays at his lips as he stares down at them.

And it’s easy somehow, in the house on this warm night with everyone here, everyone _safe -_ with the pale moonlight washing in through the window and Ryan’s mask off and Ray here right in front of him - to believe that maybe they can fix things.

Yes - “I think we can,” he murmurs, and moves to switch the hallway light off before quietly making his way back to his own room.

-

-

-

Just past dawn the next morning Gavin knocks on Michael’s door before entering. The other man is sitting up in bed, sleep-rumpled and with his hair everywhere, squinting about like he’s not quite sure where he is.

“Morning boi!” Gavin calls out, remarkably cheerful. He holds the door open wide. “You can come out.”

“What?” Michael asks, confused. He puts his glasses on and stares at Gavin, doing a double take. “You shaved.”

Gavin just grins wider. He looks much more sprightly this morning, and beckons Michael towards the door.

“Come out. Shower or brush your teeth or whatever and then come eat with us.”

“Is this a trick?” Michael demands suspiciously, but Gavin just shakes his head.

“Geoff’s orders, actually. Come _on_.”

Hesitantly, Michael gets out of bed, shrugging on his jacket before exiting the room. He heads off to the bathroom first, washing up a bit before moving out to the kitchen. Gavin’s back there with the others by now and there’s a raucous of dishes rattling and chatter. Even _laughter_.

Michael inches into the room, hands shoved in his pockets, glancing about suspiciously. The noise stills as they all turn to look at him when he enters.

They’re all sitting around the table, food spread out in front of them. Sunlight streaming through the window, a few grocery bags over on the counter. Masks off, cleaned up now - and in some state of remarkable normalcy, it seems.

“Michael,” Ray says, and smiles at him, pulling out an empty chair beside himself. “Sit down.”

“What’s going on?” Michael demands.

“Just sit down,” Geoff says, not unkindly. His face is hard to read but he doesn’t seem angry, and Michael hesitantly moves forward and sits down next to Ray.

After a slight awkward silence, conversation resumes. They’re not talking about what happened - keeping the focus of everything on some of the projects Burnie’s been working on, or movies they’ve seen lately. Light things, happy things. After a little while even Michael starts to pipe up and join in as well, gaining confidence when he manages to make Gavin laugh. They’re all smiling, more genuine and carefree than any of them have been in weeks - months - _years_ , even.

It’s Ray who finally brings them back to reality. He gets up to put some of the shopping away and when he returns to the table he tosses a Snickers bar into Michael’s lap and announces, “This is the answer to all our problems. Still can’t quite believe you sold us out but, y’know, you’re not you when you’re hungry.”

He’s obviously just teasing, and Michael does laugh, but an awkward silence stills over them all at the reminder of their circumstances. Geoff clears his throat a bit and leans forward.

“So we gotta talk about this,” he says, and they all turn to him a bit nervously. Gavin’s chewing worriedly at his lip and Ryan, next to him, reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

“So,” Geoff says, a little apprehensively. “I know a lot of shit’s happened. And I know what some of us have done here is bad. But we all have things to live with. And we all have things to let go of. Some worse than others, but fact of the matter is, we all fucked up. We all hurt each other.”

They’re all watching him with rapt attention, and he takes a deep breath.

“I can’t choose what happens now,” he says. “I’m not in charge of this. This isn’t a crew thing. It’s an _us_ thing. And there is still an _us_.”

There’s a long silence. They all stare down at their laps, no one quite ready to speak yet. But finally, Jack clears his throat.

“I want to try again,” he says - hesitant, but gaining confidence when he looks up and Ryan smiles at him. “Everything. The crew. This relationship we were almost in. I want to try it again.”

“Me too,” Ray pipes up quietly. “And this time, no matter how scary it gets - we talk it out. We don’t run away.”

“I agree,” Gavin says as well, and turns to Ryan - who nods as well.

“Me too,” he says, and Gavin and Ray break into grins, both reaching out for him.

Geoff and Michael look at each other, both with eyes very wide. After a moment Geoff nods slowly.

“I’m in if everyone else is. This is… what I wanted, all along. Didn’t dare hope for it. Michael?”

Michael’s staring at them all, a little shellshocked. Finally he shakes himself and asks, tentatively, “You really mean it? You’re all willing to just let it go?”

The earnest smiles they all send him give him his answer, and finally he lets out a shaky laugh.

“God. Didn’t expect this when you called us all back in. But yeah, I’m in - of course I’m in. If you… if you’re all willing to put this behind you, then I am too. Lots of stupid things happened but we’re all still here. That’s gotta count for something, right? I guess maybe I wanted this all along too, even if I couldn’t see it.”

Ray smiles at him and Jack starts reeling them in then, standing up and pulling everyone away from the table into a group hug. It’s a little silly but they all pile in, squeezing each other close. It’s been so long, so long since they all touched properly, so long since they were _happy_ and together. There’s something almost dreamlike about it, in this quiet house with the smell of summer streaming in the windows and everyone finally back together again.

When they pull apart Jack turns to Ryan and something strange crosses his face before he reaches out and grasps the other man’s face. Ryan stares at him, eyes wide, but doesn’t back away even when Jack tugs him gently down and kisses him. He stills in surprise but is quickly kissing back, gripping at Jack’s shoulders to steady himself.

The other four stare, surprised but not unpleased. When they pull apart Ryan laughs a bit.

“Can I ask what that was for?”

“Sorry,” Jack says, sounding a little flustered. “Just… since you shaved, it’s like I can’t believe you’re _back_ still. I know you have been since the other day, but it seemed different with your mask on. It’s like you’re finally back again.”

Ryan gives a shy sort of smile, but turns when Ray clears his throat loudly.

“Um, excuse me. Where are my kisses, Ryan?”

Ryan and Jack laugh loudly - but Geoff’s turning too now, attention drawn to Michael, who’s backed off a little way. Despite all their words, he still seems uncertain, his gaze fixed on Geoff in particular. Geoff’s face softens and he crosses over to him.

“Michael…"

“You’re sure you mean this?” Michael asks, something so pitifully unsure in it that Geoff looks a bit upset.

“Of course I am,” he says gently. “I was mad last night, I know, but I… I thought about it and I can’t give up on you. You’re my favourite,” he adds with a little smile, “Remember?”

Michael gives a tentative smile and Geoff moves forward then and curls a hand around the back of his neck, tugging him into a tight hug before leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of his head.

“We’re gonna be okay now,” he murmurs, and Michael nods, his arms coming up around Geoff’s waist to hug him back for a moment before pulling back. 

“It’ll take a while,” Ryan speaks up. Gavin’s come up next to him now and he reaches to put an arm around the other man, tugging him in against his side. “It’s all well and good to talk about it but there’s still a lot of shit to work through.”

“I know,” Geoff replies. “But we focus on this, okay? No heists for a bit. We work on us now. That should always have been the priority.”

“Lucky we got all those gold bars to tide us over,” Gavin pipes up, and Ryan snorts, moving to ruffle his hair. It somehow turns into a half-hug and the next second Ray is pushing up under Ryan’s other arm - then Jack moving in as well - then Geoff and Michael laughing as they come in from the other side. They squash and jostle for room but somehow wind up in a funny sort of group huddle, arms tangled around each other, each person surrounded by everyone else. Working out how they fit together again - and fit together they _do_ , something comfortable in it despite the awkwardness of six grown men all trying to _hug_ each other.

Geoff laughs, then, from where he’s encased somewhere in the middle of the pile. One arm around Michael, the other around Ray. Jack’s hand on his back, Gavin’s forehead pressed to his, Ryan close enough that if Geoff glances up he can look right into his blue eyes. All Geoff can do is grin, then, surrounded by his boys.

“Welcome back,” he tells them all with a big smile, “The Fake AH Crew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who participated in this! I had a blast doing something a bit different from my usual with this story but it honestly made it so much more fun that so many people got involved with sending in theories and guesses. 
> 
> I would love to do something like this again in the future if I can think of another scenario (maybe with Dan or Lindsay involved to make things a bit interesting) - this was the first ‘mystery’ sort of thing I’ve written so any feedback on what worked/didn’t work for another time would be really helpful (if there were enough clues, if the outside POV worked, if the mystery was too easy or too hard, etc).
> 
> BUT YES as always thank you all for the amazing feedback <3 See you on Halloween with another spooky scary AU and then in November with a multichapter freewood fic that I’ve written entirely ahead :’)
> 
> <3


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